[center][h3]Eyes of Mara[/h3][/center] [hr] [i]A Collab by [@Spoopy Scary], [@Stormflyx] & [@MacabreFox][/i] Gilane, Infirmary - 1st Midyear [s]evening[/s] It was a familiar scene. Lying on a red carpet like a river of blood. An armored man with an eye-patch and a billowing cloak seemingly connected to the bloody river on the floor. He understood now that the executioner looming over him was the source of the blood. With the phantom of Cezare and his claymore overhead, threatening to lop Calen’s head off, he heard it again -- three explosions of a Dwemer’s cannon. Except now with every blast, the cannons shattered his eardrums, images of the Gilane safehouse flashed before his eyes before returning to his execution by Cezare’s hand. Every time the cannons shattered his eardrums, he found himself looking at Latro at the mercy of a firing squad. He heard Latro’s voice again, “Good people detest violence. But good people doing nothing when it’s visited upon others is the only thing [i]worse.[/i]” The third and final time the cannons fired, an explosion of pain filled his chest until everything went black. A cold and sticky sensation smeared itself across his chest. [hr] To see Calen lying there - he had colour in his cheeks again, a far cry from the deathly white he had been the night before. This alone indicated to her that he was doing better. Yet he was sound asleep, peaceful. She wondered what dreams may have been playing through his mind. As she approached, she reached into her bag - taking out a stalk of aloe which she placed on the bedside table beside him, for later use. She took no time in peeling back the covers, to assess the wound now. The only reason she had been allowed in was because of her credentials as a healer. As far as she was aware, guests were not permitted yet. She could see the bruising on his chest, but the wounds were closed. There was pain there still. Restorative magic could only do so much. Just like in her nightmare, she could see at a glance that his rib was broken. That would be where most of his pain was. The poor lamb wouldn't like to laugh for a while yet. Not that there was much to laugh about. “I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you…” she said as she took the seat beside his bed, placing her hand on his. This was new to her - to comfort like this. But it felt right regardless. Too much time had passed since Rhona had laid eyes on Calen, and it didn’t take long for her to catch word of what had happened to him. The worn leather soles of her boots slapped softly against the flooring, her pace a hurried one. She had been turned away from the infirmary twice, but not today. Rhona had been told that she should give him time to heal, but she had to see him. She just had to. When she reached the door, she pushed it open with one hand while the hinges creaked in protest. Rhona stepped inside, letting the door close softly behind her; her gaze sweeping over the room, looking for him. Her eyes landed on two familiar figures, her breath catching in her throat, there he was, seemingly asleep, with the blonde woman she had come to know as Raelynn by his side, with her hand atop his. She struggled to keep her emotions about her, the cold words Mortalmo spoke came filtering back in like a black fog. Her mind screamed at her, a bellow that urged her to turn tail and leave. But no, she couldn’t. She [i]wouldn’t[/i]. She had waited impatiently since hearing of his injury to see him, and here [i]she[/i] was first? No. She couldn’t think anything of it. [i]It doesn’t matter what Mortalmo said…[/i], she thought, forcing her feet to move out from under her. Rhona closed the distance, where she came to stand at the foot of the bed, her eyes flickering between Raelynn and Calen. Her tongue felt like a heavy weight in her mouth, an iron that she had no strength to lift. “I…”, she paused, her words failing her as a lengthy silence followed, “...how is he?” She asked. She didn’t know Raelynn well, and she doubted her intentions even moreso. “He's alive,” Raelynn said to Rhona, it was all she could say. Her eyes met those of the girl and she could sense agitation within her. On a better day she would have retorted with a smirk and something bitter. She pulled the cover back over Calen’s wounds just so, and rose from her seat. “Truthfully we won't know until he wakes. He… It was not easy for him.” She picked up the aloe from the table, applying pressure to the leaf until it's gel was forced out into the palm of her hand. She moved back over him, gingerly lifting the covers once more to apply the gel to his bruising, she was looking down at it, but could see Rhona in her peripheral vision -- watching her like a hawk. This also meant that she didn’t notice the faint twitching in Calen’s face. It was only a moment or two after Raelynn applied the cold gel when the previously still Calen’s eyes flutter open before suddenly springing up in bed, crying out while gasping for air, “Lat--!” But the name of his acquaintance couldn’t come out, as the sounds merged into moans of agony, and coughing fits as he clutched the wounded area on his chest. Beneath the coolness of the aloe gel, he could feel warmth beginning to spread out in his chest. He had forgotten what kind of condition he was in, and reopened something in the process. Still clutching at the pain, Calen fell back down onto the bed with his face twisting with pain. “Gah… d-damn!” “Calen!” She moved from the foot of the bed to his side, a splash of crimson blotching the bandages, Rhona felt useless in this moment, she wasn’t equipped to handle something like this. She could only heal minor wounds and fractures, [i]this[/i] was beyond her grasp. She grabbed his free hand, looking in earnest at Raelynn. “Do [i]something![/i]” She begged. “It’s alright Rhona, it’s normal dare I say it…” The mage sprung to action, peeling back the dressing to assess the tear. “Rhona?” Calen repeated, turning his head to try looking at her through pained and squinted eyes. “It’s the rib that hurts him.” She placed a hand above the wound and let her spell drift out - dropping into the opening like a heavy golden chain. He would feel as it entered and began to pull everything back together from the inside like a strange and ethereal pressure. “You should… You should hold his hand.” Her voice was a quiet mutter as she worked. She could heal the injured, but reassuring their loved ones was new. “Comfort is needed too, sit.” She indicated to the chair next to his bed with a free hand. She did as beckoned without question, and took a seat in the chair, his hand in hers, “Everything will be alright. I promise.” Rhona managed to say over the hard lump forming in her throat. “Just squeeze my hand. I’m right here, I won’t leave you.” “I, ah, I-I’m… is everyone okay?” Calen managed to sputter out. “Did… did everyone make it out?” “Everyone made it, we made it Calen - as did you. Try to relax. You're putting tension in your chest right here…” two of her fingers pressed against the point of the broken rib, which he would feel like a stinging kiss until the warmth of her healing hand took over and placed relief there. “You gave us a scare and a half…” “Oh, thank the Nine…” He sighed with relief. He finally allowed himself a moment to relax while under Raelynn’s care and limply rolled his head to the other side to look at Rhona. He found himself staring deep into her hazel eyes -- and for some odd reason, the olive-speckled brown colors of her irises had reminded him of the falafels he had been eating not so long ago; or at least thought so, he had no idea how much time had passed, but he was silently cursing himself at the absurdity because he knew that this meant Rhona was going to be reminding him of ground-up chickpeas with specks of parsley from now on. He wracked his brain for a suitable distraction from his thoughts. “So how was [i]your[/i] day?” He said with a strained voice, but it was clear that he was trying to pass it off as nonchalantly as he could muster. “Mine was great. First day on the job’s always a little rough, but everyone’s alive so it must’ve gone off without a hitch, right?” “Hush, now. You’re talking too much.” She offered him a half-smile, her eyes starting to burn with tears. Rhona felt relief on seeing him being able to talk to her, to know that he was awake and conscious was all she had needed, a simple reassurance. Something to soothe the worry in her heart that he was alive and well. [i]Anything[/i]. She lifted his hand to her lips, kissing it once before she lowered it, her thumb rubbing the top of his hand in an affectionate manner. All Raelynn could do was watch them, she noticed the way Calen looked at Rhona. She was rather beautiful, who could blame him? But there was more there too. A connection forged from something else. She looked away and returned to his chest - stopping the flow of light before the wound had closed, it wasn't bleeding and she wanted to inspect it and clean it. She wondered if either of them now noticed her presence, or if they were too engrossed in each other. Rhona shifted her gaze to Raelynn, she hadn’t forgotten the blonde in the least, she didn’t want to distract her from her work. She nodded at her, “Is… is that all?” “For now… I just want to check the wound and make sure it is clean,” she spoke in response - her voice duller than before as she concentrated more on Calen than on Rhona’s questions. “I think to force it would leave scarring at this point, slow and steady can be far more precise when time allows for it.” She took a cloth from the dresser beside the bed, and began to wipe away the blood from his chest. “Could you perhaps fetch some fresh water?” she asked in a stern tone - not realising it may come across as a biting remark instead of just a matter of her being lost in the work she was doing. Rhona blinked slowly at her words, her mouth forming a small “o” shape before she drew her hand away from Calen’s, she glanced down at him and offered him a sympathetic smile, “I won’t be long.” She left the room without further delay, she had no intention of straying far from his side. Not at a time like this. As she left, Calen’s eyes followed after her. He thought the world of her, don’t get him wrong, but his eyes trailed down her back and focused on the sway of her rear with each step Rhona took until she disappeared from view. “I guess I should soak in all the attention while I have it, huh?” Calen remarked sardonically to Raelynn, not taking his eyes off of the doorway. “Just leave it to me to be the one to get hurt.” “It could have been any of us. It's the risk we took…” She washed away the last of the blood and looked closely at the still open wound. She felt… strange to be in the middle of them both, stranger to be around Calen - Gregor’s words came back to her, that he was the best of them all. She turned away, pretending to grab at some more supplies while she caught her breath. She switched her tone from warmth to one more ice cold as she continued; “just try not to jump in front of actual bullets in future, it's not exactly the smart thing to do. You're incredibly lucky to have made it.” What she had wanted to say was much different. That already, without Calen in the group, they would all suffer. Satisfied with the condition of his injury, she placed her hand back over it - the magicka pouring in once more to finish closing it completely. “I would be lying if I told you I’ll keep that in mind.” Calen admitted. “Truth be told, sometimes my body just moves on its own.” A moan of relief escaped his lips as the restoration magic seeped into his body and stitched his wound together. Some of the pain subsided along with it, but his chest was still throbbing. He took a deep sigh and bemoaned, “I’m really not cut out for this, am I? I don’t even know what I’m doing here. Anvil was under attack, one thing led to another, and now I’m in a hospital bed after trying to play soldier.” “You're asking me that question?” He wouldn't see it, but with her back to him again she rolled her eyes. Of course he would say such things - be this way, a soft soul would. There was not an ounce of arrogance in him. “I don't really know what you want me to say…” a lengthy sigh followed, and she tucked her hair back behind her ears and sat down in a chair next to the bed. Her hands resting in her lap now that they were done with their work. “Do any of us know what we are doing right now? I think we're all going through the motions - doing what it takes to survive.” Just to look at him there, she felt a wave of emotion swell inside but she didn't show it outwardly, not knowing why she had such a trepidation about it. He wouldn't judge her for opening up, would he? “I think you're probably doing just fine. Save for almost dying, of course.” “Did we at least win?” Calen asked, finally looking back at Raelynn. “I mean, the reason we were there… did we, I don’t know… was the mission successful?” She exhaled sharply and her nostrils flared. “Define successful. The Dwemer died, you almost died, and we barely got back here. In short, I would say we're in the shit now.” That was putting it mildly, she saw no point in embellishing it with anything else. Those were the facts, she did feel guilty for tossing the information at him like that; “sorry, I just… It is what it is, we didn't fail but we hardly came out of the endeavor victorious.” She wondered if she should place a comforting hand on him, but she didn't, knowing that Rhona would be back soon. Calen had fallen quiet after the news. After a few somber moments of silence, the bard finally said, “I should apologize -- to everyone. Especially to Latro.” Calen cupped one hand over his eyes and groaned. “I dragged everybody down and I could barely do anything to help. Gods, I...Talos damn me, what kind of Nord am I that I can’t do anything to protect anyone?” If he was searching for pity from her, he wasn’t going to get it. “You could have benefited from that thinking before your body just moved…” she snorted a slight laugh out and sighed once again. Was it funny though? Was it fair of her to laugh? He had been selfless after all. She was being too harsh on him, especially as she did enjoy his company. Couldn’t she just drop her guard and offer him something more than a spiteful remark? But to her surprise, she found Calen chuckling with her. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” “I usually am,” she found herself saying without really taking time to register straight away which caused her to laugh again, more naturally this time. Finally she turned her head and made eye contact with him, offering him a heartfelt smile. “I'm sorry Calen. I'm sorry that I couldn't keep my promise.” “To be honest,” he said again, “I, uh, don't actually remember what that was.” “I promised I would keep Nblec safe.” It was said under her breath, her eyes moved away from his and she bit down on her fingernails, waiting for his response. “Oh…” There were yet another few moments of silence, tangibly stiff, awkward, and uncomfortable, and Calen shifted around in his bed as he tried to think of something to help defuse the tension. He kept getting distracted by thoughts of the argonian, Jaraleet, and his eagerness to jump straight to torturing Nblec. Then how he had apparently gotten so carried away with it that the dwemer died. He tried to push those accusatory thoughts aside and finally piped in with, “Well, hey, let’s just keeping blaming me for all of it. You had to help [i]me[/i], right? There was nothing you could do about it.” The bard grunted as he pushed himself up and back enough to at least rest his head and part of his back against the wall. With a few sharp breaths to get into position, he found a place to relax. He looked at Raelynn with a weary smile and pointed a finger at her as he said, “You know what, let’s not stop with getting shot either. Why did the Dominion attack Anvil in the first place? ‘Oh, you know, was probably Calen again - damn boy couldn’t keep it in his pants.’ Dwemer invasion? ‘Calen must’ve offended them.’ The dragon crisis? ‘Probably Calen.’ The Warp in the West, the imperialism of Northpoint and Evermoor, or the Invasion of Wayrest? [i]‘Calen.’[/i]” She placed her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh from the back of her throat. “Do stop it, I'm supposed to be making you smile, not the other way around… And I'm afraid as much as I'd like to, I can't blame any of High Rock’s history on you. It sounds like you might have travelled through there though, I dare say it's a place a damn sight better than Hammerfell right now…” Raelynn sighed longingly for home, strange, she never missed it before now. Something about her circumstances being so wildly out of her control… “I'm not going to blame you for any of it… We should have listened to you…” The door to the infirmary swung open, and instead of Rhona standing in the doorway with a pitcher in hand, it was the towering figure of Brynja White-Hand. Her eyes landed on Calen and Raelynn, her mouth set in a disapproving frown. Her long legs closed the distance between them in a matter of steps just as Rhona trailed in behind her. “Raelynn.” Brynja nodded to her, seemingly none too happy, “Calen.” Her eyes swept over him, her brows knitted together, the frown creasing deeper before she shook her head. “I spotted Brynja in the hallway, and I asked her to take a second look.” Rhona came around to his bedside where had been sitting previously, and poured him a tankard full of water, passing it to him to take. “I’d be a lot happier if this whole damned group could keep from dying. How reckless do you have to be?” Brynja chastised, turning to face Raelynn where she gestured with a hand for her to move. “Let me take a look, I don’t have time to waste and lollygag with the lot of you.” Through gritted teeth Raelynn stood back, practically shoved out of the way by Brynja as she barged into the room. “He's alright Brynja, he needs rest and hydration.” Her hands landed on her hips as she moved around to the other side of the bed to face her. “Your mood will upskuttle the poor boy!” [i]“Man.”[/i] Calen inserted. “Mm,” she replied, not having the slightest care about what Raelynn had to say, “Rest and hydration won’t do him any good if the wound isn’t healed properly. Just because you healed him with magick, doesn’t mean an infection can’t set in.” Without any time for Calen to protest, she laid her hands upon him, poking and prodding around the wound, with perhaps a hand far too firm, trying to feel anything out of place. Her hands traveled outwards from the wound, her brows furrowed together in concentration. She watched Brynja work on Calen, [i]she doesn't trust me…[/i] she thought, taking a further step back. Realising she was cornered in this situation - by Brynja and by Rhona. She felt almost as if the two had conspired against her. She cast a glance to Calen, she would stay and bite back for him, but thought better of it. “You're right,” she said with a sickly sweet smile. “I'm tired anyway, it's late - I think I'll go to bed. I'm glad Calen is at least in good hands now.” She didn't dare stick around for a response, and turned violently on her heel - her hair flipping as she did, nose in the air. Before she left the room, she hovered in the doorway briefly, “Feel better soon Calen, we all want to hear your songs again!” and with that, she left. “Uh, yeah… toodles!” Calen called after her. After Raelynn disappeared past the doorway, his bewildered eyes slowly trailed back to Brynja as she continued to poke and prod him. He said, “You know that she’s a bona fide medic, right?” Brynja’s eyes shot up in a glower, and drew her hands away, what the hell did he just say to her? Rhona could see the fire in her eyes, and tried to cut in, “I’m sorry, I wanted to make-” “And you know that I served in the Civil War as a healer, [i]right[/i]? You ever see a man screaming for Stendarr’s mercy as I sawed through his foot to save his leg? Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot, bard.” “No, I only got shot by a miniature cannon.” Calen said with a shrug and a sardonic smile on his face. “But that’s not my point. You’re both healers and that alone is enough for me to respect you, but why not, oh I don’t know, treat the other people in the profession with more respect?” “Treat them with respect? If she didn’t walk out like she had a stick up her ass, she would’ve heard my compliment on her handiwork. She did an exemplary job, this wound is going to heal up just fine, and you’ll live.” Brynja said, her eyes shifting to Rhona, “I told you that you didn’t need to fuss over him. He was in good hands to begin with, like I said.” She made her way to the door, without so much as another word, before glancing back over her shoulder, “If you need me, [i]don’t[/i].” Rhona watched as the Nord departed, leaving Calen and her alone. She wrung her hands in a terse fashion. Now she felt bad, she only meant well… “...I’m sorry…” “Oh, you’re fine. Everything’s good!” He said nonchalantly. “It is what it is.” “I… wanted to be certain. I should have trusted in Raelynn. But… you’ll be alright, and that’s all I care about.” Rhona said, taking Calen’s hand in her’s and giving it a gentle squeeze. Her eyes lingering upon him before she leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek. Calen sighed at her touch, as if it had released all tension in his body. He rolled his head back and closed his eyes as he muttered to himself, “Well… you can’t please everyone.” [hr] As Brynja stepped out into the hallway, where she spotted Raelynn not too far, “I don’t know why you have a stick up your ass, Raelynn. You did a damned good job patching him up.” Calen’s words of defense caught her off guard, he really was just all good and all light. She wasn't used to someone so fervently being in her corner. She certainly didn't deserve it. She placed a hand on her heart, an earnest expression of happiness shone over her eyes. Yet, she couldn't resist a harmless jab either, “You know Brynja, I wouldn't have to wedge a stick up my behind if you didn't swoop in as if thunderbolts were erupting from yours. I'm afraid it might catch,” she remarked in swift response, without making eye contact to the Nord. “I just want a damned drink and to be left the fuck alone.” She said with a shake of her head, a small, but tired smile stretched across her face. “I meant what I said. You did one helluva job patching him up like that. Damn flawless. That’s a skill I don’t see often in healers these days.” Calen had softened her this evening, and because of that Raelynn bit her tongue, resisted hitting back with sarcasm, and instead gave Brynja a nod of acknowledgement, “I did my job, that’s all. But thank you, anyway,” before continuing on her way, hiding a smile from the particularly parched medic.