[2] WEEPING MONK║you're not what I was looking for

55| A Blind Eye - 𝐈𝐈

"Lance!"

Ari spun towards the quick footsteps behind her. Her palm stopped the younger Ash before she had realised it, pressed at his broad chest. And Hector's face fell. She hushed herself once again. "Do not be hysterical Hector, but your brother is healing. I'd be gentle with him if you wish to avoid your own injury."

Her hand halting him dropped back to her side. Hector gaped, darting his eyes back and forth between the two of them. "Injury — what?"

Ari stepped away to speak with the elders, leaving the brothers to talk. Lancelot gave her a subtle but pleading look as she moved past him, again asking her to rest, though she did not respond with anything but a similar expression.

"You're hurt?" Hector stepped up to his brother and searched, trying to find a wound. Sweating now at the leftover blood stains on his tunic.

Fey still lingered so Lancelot kept his voice low. "We were ambushed."

Hector was not as calm. "That's not answering my question. Are you hurt?"

Lancelot placed his hand on his brother's shoulder. "I was caught by a sword point. Nothing more." It was of course, much more — but Hector did not need to be this frenzied for him.

Jaw opened wide, Hector stared at him. Then he sharply withdrew and tugged his brother thoughtlessly along by the arm. "I'll take you to Pym."

Lancelot was not going anywhere but still stumbled onto a foot before he reclaimed his arm. "No. It is fine."

"You are delusional, brother — you were stabbed." Hector whispered, loudly.

"You were what!?"

Squirrel stood across from them, exasperated already from the few words that he had overheard. "You leave for a few days without me and get yourself hurt. Do I have to keep everyone alive around here!"

The boy strode over to the Ash pair with the determination of a brazen little bull.

Lancelot twisted to Hector. "Did you watch—"

Hector puffed out air. "I've barely seen him."

"What is wrong with you?" Squirrel demanded as he shoved himself between the brothers. He found the tear in Lancelot's tunic and the dark, dried crimson stains — and decided to prod.

Lancelot winced, nearly grabbing the boy's hand if Squirrel hadn't have pulled it back so quick. Squirrel examined the lengthy cut in the leather and Lancelot saw in his eyes when he discerned what had happened, for they came up to him wide and round. He wasn't used to such concern from the little one.

"It is healing," he said. "Ari helped."

Lancelot did not need to say more for the boy to understand what he was implying. And for the next few hours until sundown he found himself bombarded with questions about Ari's 'gold veins', nearly all of which he couldn't produce adequate enough answers for.

~

Sombre looks were shared between them around the campfire in the unusual silence. It wasn't surprising that none were in the mood for chatter tonight. Even Red had picked up on the cues and kept her comments to herself.

The council had not taken the news of Uther's rejection well, and Ari had chosen to leave their hundreds of rightly exasperated and indignant questions until the morning. After she had slept and regathered her own sense on the matter.

It was well past dark now and she was considering taking the remainder of her supper to her tent, where she could then lay down and only be bothered by her dreams. The next day was promising to test her patience and she would need as much rest as she could gather.