Weal in Woe Chapter Three --- Svana was pale, glazed with sweat, her breathing shallow. The young healer had told her to expect this; had told her that the aether transfusion she'd given the wounded woman would weaken her, and hearing that was all well and good but *seeing* it? The light in the room had turned blue, the magician had paled and dimmed while the woman had become slightly greener, slightly brighter. Then the student had collapsed, exhausted. Spent. She frowned, mopped the sweat off of the smaller woman's brow with a damp cloth, and rolled the rough woven blanket at the foot of the student's bed up to her neck. The door creaked as she stepped out of the small inn room, nodded to the innkeeper. The stout woman was seated in the hallway, a cheaply printed bodice ripper in hand, a basket of linens and a jug of water on the floor under her chair. The latch fell into place with a quiet *clack*; she crossed the hallway to her room in a single long, graceful stride. She cranked up the wick on the oil lamp slightly, brightening the dim space. It had been late afternoon when the men had brought the mystery woman to her bed; early evening by the time Svana had disinfected and transfused her. Warm yellow light flickered gently, shadows dancing across the walls as she closed and latched the door, as she removed her ear cuffs, as she unbuttoned the top of her blouse. She unwound her braid, loosened it, slowly fashioned her long hair into a flowing tail held behind her with the same ribbon, her eyes never leaving the face of the woman that slept on her bed. She *was* sleeping, Svana had assured her - the coma, brought on by blood loss, had abated shortly after the aether transfusion. Wavy black hair. A straight, slightly wide nose. Broad, muscular shoulders. A modest bust - for someone so tall, anyway. Wide hips. Muscular thighs. She could probably break a melon with little effort. Could probably break *her* with little effort. Jade skin - still pale, but a much healthier color than it had been earlier in the day. A slight pink flush to her cheeks. She was warm to the touch, almost *hot* - Svana had temporarily accelerated the woman's natural recuperative ability; had told her that was a healthy sign. The woman would be hungry when she woke up, she'd been told. She glanced at the small loaves of bread, the wedge of cheese, the links of cured meat in a bowl on the night stand. Hopefully that and the nearby jug of water would be enough if she woke up before breakfast. The woman was *big.* Taller than she was, and she was a head taller than most of the round-eared men she'd met. Her guest was fit, and if what remained of her clothes were anything to go by, she was some sort of outdoorswoman. An adventurer, maybe. *What color are her eyes?* She hoped she'd find out soon. The woman's breathing was steady, even. Slow. She pulled the chair away from the tiny desk below the window, spun it around, and sat down. She was tired, she could use some sleep, but keeping vigil felt appropriate. She sat patiently and stared, entranced by the sleeping form on the bed before her. Eventually her eyes grew heavy, and she felt herself gradually slipping into sleep. --- A gasp. The hissing of pained breath. A quiet, urgent whimper. How long had it been? She didn't know; it didn't matter. The woman was awake. She was awake. The lamp guttered, weak light flickering across their faces, catching their eyes. Her eyes were lavender. The woman gasped again and reached for her belly, wincing. She stood up, stepped to the bed, placed her hands on the woman's and pressed firmly, carefully, guiding her fingers away from the wound. Resistance, followed by relaxation. Calloused green fingers briefly intertwined with hers, briefly squeezed hers. "It hurts." The woman's voice was soft, gentle. Low - her long ears had barely made out that pained whisper. Lavender eyes teared. Emerald lips quivered. Smooth face and broad shoulders tightened, drew inward. A breath. Another. Uneven, hissing, whimpering. Trying not to scream. "This should help." She picked up a small jar of cream that Svana had given her - some sort of topical analgesic, she'd been told. She held it to the light, held it within the woman's eye line, rotated it so she could see the handwritten label. "Let me unbutton the nightgown and apply it. Don't move - you might tear your stitches." The woman nodded and lay back. Pupils dilated, eyes unfocused. Buttons slid out of holes easily - almost *too* easily, she thought. Her fingers danced down the center of the woman's torso, soft white fabric giving way to healthy green skin. She knew where the wound was, knew how long it was. She unbuttoned to just above the woman's folds and carefully drew the fabric towards her, baring the left side of the body. In the dim light the stitches were an angry, inky black briar. The surrounding skin was red, swollen. She could easily apply the cream from here. Or... perhaps a more memorable approach might relax the woman, might distract her from her pain. Might clearly communicate her growing interest. The bed was low, built with shorter folk in mind - she climbed onto it quickly, easily, straddling the woman's legs, working her way forward until her knees were even with her thighs - firm as smooth warm logs beneath the gown. The woman nodded weakly, mumbled something brief, incoherent. Her eyes were heavy - sleep wanted her. Pain held her. She opened the small container, coated two fingers with cream, and began to slowly, carefully, apply it to either side of the wound - near the seam but not *on* the seam. As little as possible on the sutures. A sharp hiss followed by a slow, relieved exhale. Repeated as she worked her way upward. Quieter, less severe as she passed over the taut belly, as she felt the firmness of bone beneath her fingers. She reached the edge of the wound, just below the breast. Her fingers lingered for a moment before drawing away, rubbing the remaining cream on the inside of the lip of the jar. She gazed down at her patient as she closed the container, as she buttoned the nightgown back up. The cream had dried quickly; the fabric slid into place with ease. Tired, pleading eyes met hers, held hers. *Begged* hers. In the moment the muscular green giantess seemed small, scared, and worst of all... *alone.* She felt a strong maternal energy blossom within her. The need to comfort the scared woman, as a mother would. She eased herself off of the bed and set the jar of analgesic aside, then carefully guided the woman into a partial sitting position, stacking pillows and working them forward as she helped her up, just far enough to drink. She proffered the jug of water - a weak nod. She lifted it to her lips, did her best to keep the heavy vessel steady. Slowly, with frequent breaks for air, the woman gulped down almost half of the jug - gasping, wincing, and carefully relaxing into the pillows as it was stoppered and set aside. Propping the woman up with pillows had served a dual purpose - it had elevated her so she could drink some water, and it had created space at the head of the bed. Space blocked by the nightstand, unfortunately. She sat on the chair long enough to take her boots off, then circled around, climbing up on the bed from the side with the most free space. She settled in behind her guest, feet under her knees, shins pressing into the pillows. She eased the bottom pillow out and placed it behind her back, then eased the top one back, between her knees. She worked herself back against the headboard, moving the pillows a bit. She looked down - lavender eyes, barely visible under heavy lids. The woman smiled faintly. Gratefully. "You're safe," she whispered. "You're safe with me. Nothing can hurt you, you're safe with me." Slow, rhythmic. Almost a lullaby. She combed her fingers through the woman's thick dark hair, sweeping it away from her neck and shoulders. She held her head in her hands, thumbs massaging temples in slow circles, humming quietly - a tune her mother had sung for her when she was a scared little girl, the lyrics long forgotten. The woman drifted to sleep. Her head in her lap, fingers combing through her wavy hair, she resumed her vigil. She'd learn her name in the morning. --- She slept sitting up. Briefly - the room passed from deep black shadow to cool blue-gray in the space of a blink. She smiled down at her sleeping guest and looked over her muscular body, squirming a bit as her imagination wandered. Best to be careful, at least for now. She yawned and stretched as well as she was able. Her legs cried for a change in position; she rubbed some life into her thighs and feet. *Now,* her calves demanded. *Later,* she insisted. The blue-gray brightened as the sun peeked through the thick forest outside, gold streams of light spraying through the small window, pooling on the bed, on the nightgown. The woman stirred, blinked, exhaled slowly. Lavender eyes drifted open - focused, awake. She placed her hands on the woman's shoulders and pressed, carefully countering her attempt to sit up. "Slowly," she whispered. "Slowly. I'll get you some water." She eased out of her sitting position, sliding the pillow that had supported her back under the one supporting the woman's neck and head. She circled around to the nightstand, to the food and drink, keenly aware of the woman's gaze - following her, assessing her. Far more alert, far more *here*, than she had been earlier. The woman took the proffered jug stiffly, with a wince, and drank deeply from it, unassisted. She handed it back - almost empty - and nodded, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Thank you." Low. Soft. Cautious. The woman looked around, looked down at herself, her gaze lingering over the nightgown. "Is this yours?" Soft white fabric pinched between jade digits, tugged gently for emphasis. Between her breasts. Was that deliberate, or...? "Y-yes." She stoppered the jug and set it aside, found herself wiping her hands on her hips - nervous, self-conscious. *Do you like it?* "I know it's a bit tight in the shoulders. You can... ah. Take it off, if you like?" She fought the urge to clap a hand over her face in embarrassment, won by tucking her hands into the back pockets of her trousers. "Wow, you can really *blush.*" The woman smiled invitingly - she felt her face heat, felt like she was going to burst into flame - and laughed. Bright, high pitched. Relaxed. "I'll hang on to it for now." The woman looked around the room, curious. "My clothes were a real mess. Have they been thrown away, or can they be cleaned and repaired?" Broad shoulders rolled, straining the soft fabric, the subtle stretch eliciting a wince, a slight frown. "I... don't know. Svana - the healer who stitched you up - had to cut them off. I don't know what happened to them." Nervously, she blurted - "I'm... Marielle. Marielle Rontremont." She did *not* know what to do with her hands. "Hezzwyb Loerhaerzwyn. Call me Hez." The woman smiled - slowly, her lavender eyes glittering. The jade giantess leaned forward, trying to sit up further - a wince, a hiss, and she sank back into the pillows, pain distorting her brow. "I feel like I swallowed broken glass." Closed eyes, a long sigh, hands fisting the blanket she lay upon. "I feel hot. Like I'm full of bees. Bees and glass." "You had a perforated bowel. The wound was too old to heal with magick by the time the locals found you. Svana cleaned you and sewed you up, then transfused you with some of her aether. A lot, actually. The 'bees' feeling is probably your body's natural healing ability. She temporarily accelerated it; I don't know for how long." All true, especially her uncertainty. "You're... not a healer, are you." Hez's tone was curious, her mouth curling very slightly at the edges. "Why *are* you watching over me?" *Because you're pretty.* "I... uh..." she stammered, struggled to find verbal footing, a plausible explanation. "Svana needed catgut and silk. I'm a tradeswoman - jewelry, mainly, but other fine work as well. I had the needles and thread. I'm also the tallest person in town, after you - I had the nightgown... and a bed I was willing to..." She trailed off briefly, searching for an appropriate word. "...share?" Hez's smile became more obvious, more *amused.* She felt herself flush vibrantly, felt her long ears burning, long fingers flexing nervously. She looked away, out the window. Was she that easy to read? Was she *that* transparent? "Svana was exhausted. I wanted to be here in case you needed anything." Any*one*. "You were. You *are.* Thank you, Marielle." Hez's voice was gentle, grateful. Her body was restless - she squirmed a bit. Winced, stilled. Sighed. Lavender eyes searched hers. Pleading. Not as vibrantly as she had in the night, but her need was still there, still urgent. Hez hurt and needed help and didn't have the words to ask for it. "Mari, please. May I?" She nodded, indicating the nightgown with her eyes. Hez glanced to the nightstand - the small jar of analgesic. Glanced at her. She nodded again; Hez nodded in return. She leaned over, knees bending, fingers nimbly opening the nightgown, She deftly slid the opening in the fabric over the wound, keeping Hez's breasts as covered as possible, keeping her eyes on the sutures. In the morning light the wound was a vibrant red of rent tissue interrupted regularly by the pale white of silk thread, surrounded by a sea of smooth, heavenly green. She picked up the jar, opened it, and was beginning to kneel at the bedside when Hez grabbed at her trouser leg, tugging to get her attention. "Don't be shy." The jade beauty patted the bed on either side of her hips, smiling. "Get up here." "I... uh..." She was convinced that her face and ears were going to burst into flames. Any moment now. "What changed between last night and this morning? What's different?" Hez's voice was confident, gentle... with just a hint of teasing. She raised her eyebrows slightly, patted the bed again. "You're... ah..." "...awake and aware enough to consent? Is that it?" Hez made eye contact, held it. "Mari, straddle me. Lay your hands on me. Soothe me." Her voice was playful, her eyes smiling - tight in the corners, unable to hide her pain completely. She mutely vaulted onto the bed, effortlessly straddling Hez - a bit more forward this time, almost covering the bottom edge of the wound. She yelped with surprise and delight as Hez placed her hands on her thighs, giving them a playful squeeze. The jade giantess's eyebrows raised. Hez moved her hands away, her expression quizzical. *Is this okay?* She nodded, a smile playing across her lips as she dipped the fingers of her left hand into the jar. "Touch me however you like... just know that there isn't much of this stuff left." She wobbled the jar with her right hand, tilting it at an angle so Hez could see what she'd just noticed - the clear spot on the bottom of the glass hadn't been there yesterday. "Best to let me get it where it needs to go." Hez nodded. Her strong hands returned to her thighs - warm, almost *hot*. As she dabbed cream on the angry red parts of the wound she felt those hands squeeze, fingers massaging, exploring. Hez worked her way upwards, backwards, palms coming to rest on her bottom as she leaned over the taller woman, carefully working the cream into her skin. She treated her belly with great care and thoroughness, spending less time and attention on the upper abdomen and rib cage - the wound was shallow there, it would heal first there. Hez's hands warmed her bottom, warmed her core - she felt her fire spark and kindle. She rolled her hips, ground her bottom into warm palms and strong fingers that gripped her, pulled her forward. She dabbed cream on the last bits of the wound, just below Hez's left breast. She was leaning over her, right hand buried in the bedding, jar between her thumb and forefinger and Hez. She looked up slowly, eyes lingering over the woman's barely covered breasts, her beautifully sculpted collarbones. Her lavender eyes. There was pain there, yes. Pain, and fire. She held Hez's gaze for a long moment, feeling her countenance soften, feeling her fire surge into her chest and cheeks as a light pink flush spread across the jade beauty's face. "Seems I've found weal in woe." Hez smiled, her low voice a soft, barely audible purr. She smiled as the firm hands cupping her bottom coaxed her forward, into a long, slow, achingly gentle kiss.