A/N -- Here it is, guys! Also, before I begin, I painted you guys a thing (Of which you should totally zoom in because I even went as far to draw pores and freckles, oh my)! I draw stoic Hench so much, yet I wanted you guys to finally see her smile to break up the sadness of the last chapter.
Hench nearly vomited when one of the medics on hand popped Azabela's legs back into their sockets. Immediately after, her armor was removed and her clothing underneath in order for them to do a complete physical examination. Her little body was covered in bruises and burns. Gently, they rubbed salve on her burned skin, and turned her over. Her lower back was nearly completely purple. The medic clucked his tongue at that and ran a finger over the ridge of her spine.
"Turn her over. Carefully," he said to his assistant. "And I mean carefully. I want you to brace her lower back immediately."
Hench helped them turn her back over, where the medic checked her head, eyes, and ears. The medic sucked in a small breath when he looked in her right ear, but otherwise said nothing. After checking her head, he helped wrap the brace over her back. "How long has she been unconscious?" The assistant covered her body up with a blanket.
Hench swallowed, trying to keep the shakes out of her voice. "She passed out right before we came in." Things were quiet for a second. "Is she going to die?"
"I don't believe so. She should wake up within a few minutes. Her head injury was not severe... only appeared to be slight trauma. That's the good news." Hench took an easy breath at that, but held it when the medic was looking at her sorrowfully. "But there's bad news, too." Rhalla's heart stopped.
"What bad news?" she dared to ask.
"There... may be complications with the other injuries she received."
"What kind of complications?"
"The injury on her lower back, it looks... grievous. The force of whatever hit her did the most damage to the area around her hips. I've braced the area tightly, in hopes of holding everything still. I expect, by the look of things, that her spine has sustained a fracture in that region."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning we won't know until she wakes up..." the medic paused. "But with that kind of injury... well, depending on the severity of the fracture, there is a possibility that she may never walk again."
Rhalla's face went pale, and she couldn't stop the tears that fell from her eyes. At those words, she had to sit down. Her next words were soft, almost child-like in nature... "But... she likes to dance." She said it like that might change something, even though deep down inside, Rhalla knew it hardly mattered.
The medic knelt and took Rhalla's hand. "Like I said, we won't know until she wakes up."
"Is there anything else... I should know?" her words were broken.
"There is," the medic answered, heartbroken. "Just one more thing, I promise."
"What... else?"
"Upon the physical examination, the hearing drum in her right ear has completely ruptured. I suspect from being so close to the blast, it was loud enough to cause severe injury," came the explanation. "Miss Azabela will have permanent deafness in that ear. That, I can say for sure. I'm so terribly sorry." And he was. He hated this part of his job.
Hearing all that was too much. Rhalla broke down in tears, no longer aware of the medic's presence. Why did she have to do that? Why did she have to go and do that? The flashback came quickly. Azabela had looked straight at her, almost smiling, before turning and shooting that last barrel. That last barrel that had been headed... for her and Dyran. Rhalla knew that Azabela had done it to save her. Azabela had broken herself, had risked death, to save her. It made her stomach turn.
Brawler came busting in the tent a moment later. When he saw his commander crying, he put a hand on her shoulder.
Rhalla looked up at him and wiped her eyes. "Is the march still at a halt?" The words were a stammer, despite her very best attempt to sound strong.
"Even better, lass," Brawler said. "I came ta tell ye tha' the baron's men retreated inside the fortress. The march is at a halt an' it's lookin' like we're gonna be able to get some rest 'fore we go in an' kick ass." When Hench stayed quiet, Brawler looked to Azabela. "Ye know, lass... what she did..." he stumbled over his words. "Do ye even fathom how many lives she saved? Not only from the blasts, but now tha' we got a chance to regroup, we're gonna be a lot more clear in tha head."
"Yeah," Hench said, but her voice was subdued.
"No, now listen ta me," Brawler said, trying his best to cheer his friend up, "I don't think ye quite understand how amazin' what she jus' did was. By what the archer's are sayin' -hell, even Cane, an' ye know he's good, those shots shoulda been impossible with the angle we were at. But she hit em. Every single one of em. From a movin' damn horse. Azabela is twice the hero than even I am."
"And what did she get for it?" Hench asked abruptly, "A deaf ear, and the possibility of never walking again."
Brawler grimaced. "Do they know that fer sure?"
"The ear, yes," Hench answered, and looked back at her betrothed. "The legs... is yet to be proven. We'll know when she wakes up."
"Then hold on ta hope."
"What happens if she can't?" Hench lost herself for a second. "What happens if she can't hunt anymore -can't dance anymore? That's who she is."
"There ain't no sense in thinkin' it until ye know for sure," Brawler said. "But if she can't -then ye help her through, ye love her to the best o' yer ability, an' ye know tha' you've got someone in this world tha' loves ye enough to give up everythin' fer you. An' not a lot of people have tha', ye know? She's damn lucky she lived. But by the way she looked at ye before she did it -yes, I saw that look with me own eyes, I don't think she expected to."
Rhalla hardly had time to digest that when the huntress stirred. Her eyes fluttered open and she started coughing. She turned her head. There was a dazed look in her eyes, like she wasn't quite sure where she was -like she wasn't quite sure of anything, actually.
"Bela," Rhalla moved to Azabela's side. "Bela, are you okay?"
She still looked confused. She said nothing.
"Bela?"
Azabela still stared blankly at Hench, like she wasn't even seeing her.
Rhalla took a breath. She needed to give her betrothed a minute; she understood that after her initial reaction. She took a few step backs to the edge of the tent out of Azabela's direct eyeshot, giving the huntress the space she needed to recover.
Azabela finally opened her mouth, but her words died in her throat.
"Miss Azabela?" the medic prompted.
She shook her head. She was still stunned, but she said, "Ow." Her hand immediately went to her deaf ear and cupped it. Her words slurred a little and her gaze went back to the ceiling. "Why is there water in my ear?"
The medic said, "There isn't, sweetheart."
"Why can't I hear on this side?" she shook her head again. Rhalla just about burst into tears. She only held herself in check for her beloved's sake.
"There was an--," the medic tried to fill in the blanks.
"Explosion," Azabela finished for him, very slowly coming to coherence. "There was an explosion. Was there?" She still wasn't fully lucid, by any means. "I still can't... hear. There's water in my ear. There was an explosion. Ow. I have a headache. Everything hurts. I can't hear. Why can't I hear?"
The medic nodded and took it slow. "There was an explosion, yes." Pause. "And here, take this medicine... it'll help with your pain." He produced a small vial from his pouch, of which Azabela vacantly stared at for a few long moments before grabbing it.
"Rhalla, I think Rhalla was in danger," Azabela whispered frantically, still not registering that her beloved stood in the corner. "Is Rhalla okay?"
"She's just fine," the medic assured her. "You saved her from a bursting barrel, Azabela."
That took a minute to sink in. The huntress swallowed the liquid.
"Good," Azabela whispered after the bitter medicine went down, and the most peaceful smile traced her lips, and she shut her eyes. "That's really good." One eye opened for a second. "Did I look cool doing it?"
Brawler snorted at that, but Azabela didn't seem to hear him.
"I assume so, yes," the medic answered, puzzled. "You saved hundreds of lives."
Azabela shut that eye again and said. "Bitchin'."
Things were quiet for a minute, giving her time to think. More understanding cloaked her expression after several moments, as if all the puzzle pieces finally clicked together in her rattled head. "I remember now, I think. I shot it with a flaming arrow on horseback... it was about to hit her. Yes, we're at the baron's estate... I'm in the medic tent." Her eyes flew open and she stared hard at the medic. "I got caught in the blast. And now I can't..." Azabela whimpered and cupped her ear. "Why can't I hear?"
At that moment, Brawler excused himself from the tent, giving them time.
"I fear your hearing drum ruptured in your right ear..." the healer explained.
Azabela knew well what that meant from years spent with her grandmother. "I'm... deaf?"
"In your right ear, yes," the medic said with a hard lump in his throat. "I fear there isn't much I can do for you. But your left ear is fully functional. That's good news."
Azabela sucked in a heavy breath and sunk against her pillow. "And Rhalla's really okay? You're not just saying that?"
"She is."
"Then I'll live," she said after a moment. A free-falling tear slid down her cheek. "Will I?"
The medic nodded. "I believe so. But I'll keep a close eye on you anyway. We all will."
Azabela was silent, taking in the news. Her heart broke somewhere inside her chest. Getting the news that she was deaf... that was perhaps the hardest news she'd ever had to hear. No pun fucking intended, Azabela gave a dark snort. Still, she wiped her eyes and did her best to accept it. Now wasn't the time to fall apart, and she knew it. Finally, she said, "Don't let Rhalla in here."
The medic tilted his head. "Err... why not?"
Azabela shook her head. "Because I can't let her see me like this -all broken to bits," she whispered. Water streamed down her face. Azabela forced a smile through her pain and said, "Because I imagine she's going to beat my ass at that."
"Is that what you think of me?"
Azabela's head snapped to Rhalla. "You..." she choked out. "You're here."
Rhalla stepped up and knelt by the medic's table. "Where else would I be?" She offered a sad smile and messed with a strand of the huntress's hair.
"The battle," Azabela blurted.
"...is currently going very well. We're regrouping and marching in once we're ready. The baron's men retreated inside. For now, we have a little time to recuperate." Rhalla moved her hand to Azabela's cheek, and there was a sort of intensity in her gaze. "And that's all because of you. Azabela, you saved so many lives."
Azabela shut her eyes and rested her cheek against Rhalla's palm. "I saved my favorite one."
"You did save my life." Rhalla's eyebrows dented. "But at what cost?" she whispered as she lightly stroked her lover's skin. "How do you feel? Anything very strange?"
The medic took that cue. "I'm about to check the status of her... condition." Before Azabela could comprehend what that meant, he was raising the blanket that covered her feet. At the sudden air on her bare skin, the huntress nearly sat up. Hench caught her before she could move, placing a large hand right on Azabela's chest. The strength of Rhalla's arm was enough to keep her down.
"Don't move too much," she instructed.
Azabela squirmed. "Why?" Suspicion dented her brows. "Is there something wrong with my feet? What don't you want me to see?"
"It's not that..." Hench started. It's just that you could be paralyzed forever if you aren't already. Gods, please don't be paralyzed.
The medic took over. "So you felt me move the blanket?" Azabela nodded, looking confused. "Very good, now I want you to tell me when you feel something again. Sound easy enough?"
"Okay," Azabela answered in a fragmented voice. "Should I be afraid?"
"You should only relax," the medic answered. Without another sound, he ran his finger up the middle of her left foot, heel to toe.
Azabela twitched. "That tickles."
Something in Rhalla's chest picked up. The medic softly smiled and did the same with the right foot without a word. Again, the huntress jerked a little. "There it is again. I felt that."
Tension released in the room.
"Does that mean..." Rhalla began.
"It means she still has the probability of walking again, yes. Her back injury wasn't as grave as it could've been," the healer confirmed. "But that doesn't mean she can necessarily walk right now. Her hips were dislocated by the blast. While I've reset them, she will still have very limited mobility for some time. She will need to lay still and heal, and then she will have to walk with the aide of walking-sticks for a while. Her back will still need to remain braced for at least two moons."
"Wait," Azabela swallowed the suddenly hard lump in her throat. "There was a chance of... me being a cripple?"
"In theory, there still is." When Azabela's face paled, the medic put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. "But if you keep it supported with that brace and keep it checked up on by your usual healer, I imagine you'll retain your ability to use your lower body. Just be cautious."
For a minute, Azabela was deep in thought. Finally, she looked to Rhalla. "If something happens, and I can't..." she trailed off. "You wouldn't have to stay with me."
The mighty woman clucked her tongue. "Stop that."
"I mean it," Azabela reinforced. "I really do. It would be so hard to want me when I can't even stand. When I can't walk to your arms."
"You vastly underestimate how much I love you." Rhalla's voice was conversational, and then it was loving. "If it so happens that you jar something in your back, and aren't able to walk anymore, then I will quite literally carry you everywhere. I have large arms, if you weren't aware before."
"Rhalla, I mean it. I never want to be a burden."
"You could never be," came the reply. Hench's eyes softened further. "Do you remember the day you met me? Do you remember the state you found me in?" She smiled a little. "With my matted hair, laboring body, filthy clothes, and inane cries? That was my lowest, Bela. But here you are anyway, trying your damndest to die for me, and then calling yourself a burden. In any form, you are still you."
Azabela smiled. "Okay."
Their conversation was interrupted by another healer that walked into the tent. "Samuel," he addressed the medic that had been assisting Azabela. "Surprise, you get to go rest. There's been a sudden change in the staffing."
Samuel coughed. "What are you doing awake? Go back to bed, I'll be fine. Everyone's already alternating. You're my only cover."
"We got another healer heading to the tent right now. They've just showed up."
"What do you mean another healer showed up?"
Their answer came in the form of a person flying through the tent flaps. It was a woman -a near withered women that all but pushed the other medics out of the way. She met Azabela's eyes.
It wasn't just a medic. It was one of Eldia's best medics.
Rhalla blinked.
Sorella Havers was still in the tent, rushing to her granddaughter's side with all the haste her old bones could handle.
Azabela spat, "Grandmother?"
"I came as soon as I got your letter," Sorella took a breath. "I... feared I might be too late. Especially when I heard you'd been injured."
"I'll be okay," Azabela said softly, and Sorella took a large breath of relief.
"Good," she replied. "But I'll still look you over."
"Letter?" Rhalla's voice came quickly after.
Azabela's eyes bobbled, but she didn't tell anyone how disorienting it was to hear so many people talking. Suddenly, she was having a very hard time perceiving the location of each individual sound. She focused on Rhalla and said, "I sent her a letter right before I left Eda. I told her I was coming here to fight. For you. I told her everything, Rhalla. Everything."
Look at that. There was still enough of Rhalla's stomach left after Azabela's injury to twist and drop right out of her.
Finally, Sorella met her eyes.
"I," Rhalla paused. "I fear I know not what to say."
The old woman took a breath. "While the idea of the whole thing is odd, it was never that you were a female. Do you know that?" came a sudden truth.
Rhalla coughed in surprise. "I'm sorry?"
"I realized on my way here that there are some things I may should have said a long while ago," she whispered. "So I'm going to spit it all out while there is still time. One of them is how sorry I am to you. I've treated you poorly at times. It wasn't your fault. It was never your fault."
"I..."
"You must surely think it, but I've never truly hated you. Not really. You were just so volatile when we first met. You'd hallucinate and go into frantic, angry fits. You'd fight to the tooth and nail, like an animal in a cage. We'd have to put you to sleep with Red Viscount's Venom." Sorella shook her head. "And that was fine when it was me trying to save you."
Silence filled the tent.
"The day I caught my granddaughter kiss you," Pause. "...was the day I realized she was just like her mother." Sorella chuckled humorlessly. "It runs in the blood. The need to help people. It's why I'm a medic. And it's also why my daughter, Azrella, died an early death. Pryvis Stryder had problems. He was a victim as a child. His father hurt him, and his father hurt him. And Pryvis was the same. He'd get so angry -he'd hurt my daughter. Sometimes, he would hurt her bad, and I know because I patched her up. But she thought she could fix him, help him to be better. She wouldn't leave him. And one night, he got so mad, and... and nothing I could do could put her back together when she died. Even if I tried." Sorella heaved a breath. "I buried my daughter. And I saw the way Azabela wanted to help you. I saw that look in her eyes, and I feared for her. Even with your circumstances, I couldn't risk you hurting her. So I... I made you leave."
"I am sorry for your daughter," was all Rhalla could say.
"I'm a bitter, old woman," Sorella kept on. "I let my hatred of Pryvis Stryder reflect on you. And when you starting fighting with that warhammer, it made it worse. It was foolish of me. On our trips, I couldn't help but wonder if you were ever really sane. I loved you, because you selflessly protected us. I loved you because of the way you seemed to love your son. But I hated you too, for what you might do. Which is entirely unfair to you. I think I realized that at the prospect of you both coming here to get the hell beat out of you, you foolish girls."
"I'm not angry," Rhalla said softly.
"You should be," Sorella said. "I got Azabela's letter not long ago. She spoke of you, how you'd lived together for a while... how you both were to be married. How she would die for you. She spoke of some of the times you shared. She spoke of how much she loved you. She spoke of your character," Sorella's voice fragmented. "If you're half the woman she believes you to be, then I've missed so much. And I don't mean to miss more."
Azabela's voice was the one to croak. "Do you mean that?"
Sorella nodded. "I never lie. Now I'll admit, from a medic standpoint, I can't imagine how everything settles behind closed doors, but I suppose that's hardly my business." She looked to them both. Her voice went soft again. "I'd like to see the wedding, if that's... no trouble."
"Of course," Rhalla said when she found her voice through the mass in her throat. "Of course you can."
"Good."
"So you're not here to scold me for taking a woman lover and drag me home from the fight?" Azabela whispered.
"While dragging you home sounds appealing," Sorella raised a brow. "No, it's not why I'm here."
"Then why?" The question was childlike on the huntress's lips.
"I told you why. I had things to say... to both of you. I wanted you to know, Azabela, that I accept you for who you are, and I will never love you less. And Rhalla, I wanted you to know that I am willing to give you the chance that you deserve." Sorella smiled a little. "You reckless, ridiculous girls, you came here with everyone to end lives. I came here because someone has to save them."