Aftermath
©  Tiffany Dunn

Something was disrupting her.  Something very painful. It disturbed her tenuous slumber and made her want to cry out. An ache, deep and raw. And suddenly she remembered. Her eyes flew wide, then slammed shut again as she fully regained consciousness. The pain! Biting down on the fabric of the pillow her head was nestled into, she cried silently. Her back was aflame with sensation, shredded and torn and sensitive to the tiniest agitation. She'd never known something could hurt so much. Next to her, someone stirred.

"Tatianna?" a vaguely familiar voice softly questioned. "Can you hear me?" Everything was the pain, even the voice originated from the agony she was feeling. "Yana, please..." The hazy someone's voice caught, and was silent. A soft touch barely registered, brushing the hair out of her face. All she knew was her next breath of air was fresh and smelled of medicines, not oily hair. Risking sanity, she cracked her eyes open, praying for her father's face. It was dark in here, this room, small and close, and the one window illuminated the figure next to her only slightly. But it was enough, enough to bring despair to her weakened heart.

"Tethyn," she murmured sadly. The word fell from her lips with her tears. The man gasped, and knelt down out of his chair next to the side of her bed. "Lioshae be praised, you're awake."

Two strong hands engulfed her tiny one, the bed creaking slightly as he put his elbows down. "I was afraid. I didn't know.." his voice trailed into the darkness, lost in the hurt. "No matter. Tell me, do you need anything? Water? Food?"

Food? As if eating would ever be possible again. She was full with the pain. Mere hunger no longer mattered. But water...she licked her lips, a silent, simple signal. Through the slits of her eyes she saw his shadowy form nod, and then her hand was released and the bed returned to a more stable level. How could she tell him what she really wanted? Her family. Her life. An end to the suffering her back pulsed out with every heartbeat.

"Here." The water was a poor substitute, but she eagerly drank from the drops he spilled onto her lips. After awhile she closed her mouth, feeling the water slip down the outline of her small chin and drip onto the pillow. A cool cloth was placed on her forehead, matting down the hair there. Another appeared on her arm, and Tethyn cooled her fevered body down as best he could. She realized there was a breeze in the room when it hit the rapidly evaporating water. A shiver ran up her arms and down her spine, erupting along the lashmarks on her back, causing her to groan. "Be still, little one. I have an herb for you, it will dull the pain." Something violent filled his last words. Some hate that reached out past the ache and made itself known. She wondered if it was for her. A sharp stinging smell interrupted her musing. "Try and eat this. It will help. I promise." She took the herb with her teeth, and chewed it slowly, deliberately. Countless heartbeats later it was swallowed. She lay in silence, waiting for it to work, counting breaths. Tethyn knelt next to her, his hands holding hers again. On her stomach, her head to the side, her world became the scents and sounds of this room, always accentuated by the pain, drowning out any other feeling. Her pillow could be filled with rocks, her bedding lined with Dragon teeth, and still she would not feel it. Before she could tell if the herbs had worked, she drifted off to sleep again.

* * *

Sometime later, after numerous brief journeys to consciousness, Yana awoke. Her stomach gnawed at her, caving in on itself from lack of food. The biting pain in her back had dulled to a constant, manageable ache. The pillow she lay on was soft against her cheek. She faced the window now, and she could see the sun had just begun to rise or set. She wasn't sure which, but the chill quiet of early morning seemed to fill the cool breeze that washed into the room. Morning breezes were empty, awaiting the use of a new day. Evening breezes, she had always felt, were full and heavy, looking to displace the load from their travels. This breeze was barren and clear. It must be morning.

She shifted her gaze from the half-lighted window to the rest of the room. It had been one of the servant's quarters when her father ruled, but fallen into disuse since Roltan's arrival. Tatianna could not recall having been in here before. It was a small room, with one medium-sized trunk against the wall under the window and the bed as the only furniture she could immediately see. Willing the pain under control she turned her head slowly so she could see the other side of the bed. The world swam, red throbs pounding her eyes and forcing them shut as she moved. A slight moan escaped from her clenched throat and she lay still, recovering. Four white-hot stripes of pain cut across her back as she lay there, bringing memory back like a slap. "Tethyn," she murmured quietly, opening her eyes halfway. But the wooden chair next to her bed was empty, the seat tucked underneath the small bedside table near her head. On the table was a dirty white bowl with the seal of her house decorating the sides, and a stiff, dry cloth hung over the rim, splotched with dark stains. Her blood. Her insides quivered.

On the wall opposite the window, a shaft of golden sunlight worked its way up the deep red wood of the closed door there. Her stomach coiled inside her more tightly as she wondered what day it was. By Lioshae, she was hungry! Moving did not seem the best of options but it was preferable to starving to death. If she could just make it down to the kitchens, wherever they were from here, old Reana would give her food. No matter what the hateful son-of-a-dragon had ordered. Gritting her teeth and pulling what remained of her spirit from deep inside, she very slowly let her legs slide off the edge of the bed. Too short to reach the floor, she let the momentum help lift her torso up and she quickly sat, crying out as the flesh of her back pulled taut. Her small hands gripped the side of the bed and she felt tears slide down her face as her mind threatened to slip into unconsciousness again. "No, no, no" she whispered to herself, her stomach clenching tightly, a mirror of her hands. Fighting back the fear, she grabbed onto the chair back and pulled herself up quickly, wincing in anticipation of the result. Indeed, the pain redoubled it's efforts to drag her back down, causing her legs to weave unsteadily until she fell to one knee. "No, no, NO," she repeated desperately. A stream of tears warmed her face, paling in comparison to the fire running down her back as she struggled to stand. Resisting the pull, she stood defiantly in the early morning light, shivering in the cool breeze.

After a minute of letting the pain die down she realized that she wasn't wearing any clothes, and she began to look for hers with her eyes. They were laying in a heap in the corner and she sighed gratefully at how close they were. Afraid to release the chair back, she took a small step forward, balancing unsteadily. But as though it sensed her determination, the pain had subsided to a constant throbbing. Taking another step hurt, but the threatening tide of passing out had fallen back. Short small steps, one, then another, then another, finally brought her to her pile, bringing a proud smile briefly to her face. "Well," she quietly announced aloud, "That wasn't so bad." Next to the clothes, a shallow pan gleamed dully. She wrinkled her nose as she realized what it was, and looked down at herself. Through the sweat and the prospect of days un-washed, her own smell easily overpowered the smell of the bedpan. Turning her eyes back to the pile, she began to think. The act of actually reaching the clothes had her stumped. Bending down again would mean she would have to get up, but there was no other way to reach them. Her lower lip started trembling, even this small obstacle almost too much for her. "No," she breathed aloud. With no more thought, she fell to her knees and cried out at the shock of the landing, the hurt pulsing again, having gained strength from her faltering determination. "NO," she told it once more, pushing it away. She held the clothing up in small, shaking hands, studying the dirty, worn garments with growing despair. "I'll never get these on," she whispered. Although only a simple tunic and pair of breeches, they seemed insurmountable to the young girl. She dropped the breeches and held the tunic up alone, noticing its length. "Maybe..." With care she put an arm through each sleeve and then shut her eyes.

"Please," she prayed to Lioshae, the rest going unspoken. Inhaling shallowly, she tugged the tunic on over her head and let the cloth fall around her, brushing against her sores painfully. Tears that hadn't fully stopped picked up again, coursing freely down her face. Everytime she moved the fabric seemed to get caught on the edges of one of the lash-marks, and she had to nearly bite through her lip to keep from continuously crying out. Her head beginning to pound from the ever-present agony, Yana realized she had to get moving again before she collapsed where she knelt. With swift movements, she leapt up, and took three huge, staggering steps to the doorway, collapsing against it as her back punished her for the maneuver. Holding onto the door handle, she half-sobbed and half-laughed at having made it this far. The sun had already started to warm the room during her private ordeal, and it now shone comfortingly on her back, lending her strength. She closed her eyes and grasped the door handle, pulling the door open in a slow arc. To keep from falling she held tightly onto the edge, moving with the door as it opened. It creaked open, revealing it's few years of disuse, and she beheld the empty hallway in front of her with a strange sense of pleasure. Taking slow, solid steps, Yana began to walk out into the hallway, taking several minutes just to get into the corridor. Stopping in the center, she looked around, her thoughts fuzzy. She knew she had been here before, but so many of the halls appeared the same that she could have been in at least four that she thought of, all on opposite ends of the keep. Anxiously she started to the left, taking several quick, stumbling steps. What if this wasn't the right way? Halting unsteadily, she turned back, and went to the right, nearly tripping several times. What if it really was left? Crying again, Yana collapsed to her knees on the hard floor, beating her fists into it, until the pain from the movement made her pass out again.

* * *

Some time later, she had no idea how long, she heard her name being called and she opened her eyes warily. Immediately she realized she was still lying on the floor, although her head was resting in someone's lap, her face wet with tears. Looking up into Tethyn's worried features, she heaved a sigh of relief, wincing as she did so. "I...I was hungry," she explained tiredly. Feeling him shake with what she assumed was laughter, she smiled a bit and closed her eyes again, feeling safe now that he was here. "Are you all right?" he whispered to her. "Mmm-hmm. My back hurts a lot. Tethyn, where were you? I woke up and there was no one there." She bit back tears, not wanting to cry like a baby.

"Shhh..." she felt him brush her hair off of her forehead. "I'm sorry. I had to take care of some things. I didn't think you'd wake up yet. I'm back now, and I'll stay here with you."

"All right," she responded, feeling herself falling asleep, even through the twisting and turning of her stomach. "Do you think..." she interrupted herself with a yawn. "Do you think I could have some food when I wake up?"

"Of course," he said, the smile evident in his voice, "Of course. Just let me know. I'll take care of you." He lifted her up, his strong arms avoiding her back entirely, and she felt him carry her a short distance and then lay her down again on the bed. "Rest now. Just rest, and don't worry about anything." She nodded, too tired to talk now, and fell asleep, accompanied in her dreams by the slow throbbing of her back, and Tethyn's warm voice.