Quarrels and Quills

Nairn Tuckamore

There was something entirely too convenient about the arrival of this second vampire. His concern. His knowledge of the particular blade Gwindor had been impaled with. His knowledge of the relationship between Gwindor and Sellia. Sellia had allowed the man to help Gwindor, but Nairn didn't see any familiarity on her face when he'd stepped into view. Yet the man clearly knew her.

Nairn didn't trust his tone, or his intentions.

"I will carry him." Without waiting for argument, the Norn bent low and gently took Gwindor in her arms, one arm under his knees, the other under his shoulders. She stood without difficulty and the limp man was in no danger of having his injured limbs dragged through the dirt. While she didn't like having her arms full - or having someone so close to her face - Nairn considered this arrangement the best option.

"You may assist by watching for other mercenaries, if you must. We must go quickly."

Her long stride began carrying her and her load down the hill at a brisk pace. Part of her told her to take the rear and keep an eye on the newcomer, but she pushed the thought aside. Gwindor needed healing and Sellia could clearly take care of herself.

Sellia

"Thank you, Nairn," Sellia said sincerely. Somehow, the Norn's offer was a great relief. This other vampire had so far been nothing but kind, but she still felt a foreboding... and the more time she spent in his presence, the more she realized it was centered around him - around this Devrin, as he told them his name was.

Was she being foolish? Her beloved was in grave danger. Shouldn't she accept any help that was offered, regardless of her irrational feelings about the source?

But then she remembered something Gwindor had told her. "My people place grave value on such intuitions. You should heed it." That was the closest she was going to come under the circumstances to Gwindor being able to speak for himself. She would honor his wishes by trusting her gut and being cautious.

As they walked, Devrin kept up a stream of sympathy and reassurance. "I'm so sorry about your friend, Sellia. I'm certain he'll be alright. I think we found him in time..."

Sellia nodded absently from time to time, but she was at most half-listening... and she found that his prattle, rather than comforting her, was making her feel increasingly annoyed. She felt a stab of guilt at her own irritation. He was only being nice, wasn't he? She shouldn't take her fears out on a stranger. But then Sellia was able to pinpoint exactly what bothered her about the other vampire's behavior. He wants my attention. He wants me to look at him, talk to him, think about him - not focus on Gwindor. That wasn't necessarily malevolent. It might be merely arrogant, just the garden variety selfishness of a conventionally handsome man who was used to being the center of women's attention. And yet it somehow increased her sense of dread.

She was relieved when they made it back to the others. She thanked Nairn again, and helped her to ease Gwindor to the ground as Tempest ran up to them. The healer frowned, seeing the extent of the injuries, and immediately went to work.

Tempest was clearly fully invested, doing her utmost... but she was also clearly tired, and low on mana. She'd healed many that day, and her reserves were all but used up. She did what magic she could, and supplemented it with bandages and potions as necessary.

"I'll do my best to save his eye and his leg," Tempest said. "But I'm afraid I can make no guarantee of either."

"It's alright," Sellia said. "If you can't, just save his life. That's what matters. He's strong. He can handle the rest. Just don't let him die."

She certainly didn't look forward to Gwindor waking up to find more life-altering injuries. But the important thing was that he did wake up. Her mind was already working on logistics to make it easier. We'll need to rearrange the cottage if he loses the leg. I can move the bed downstairs by the fire, so he doesn't have to climb the stairs to the loft...

Devrin was still hovering. "Sellia, I was wondering if we could talk..."

"Not now!" Sellia snapped, rounding on him with blazing eyes. She saw the hurt on his face, and felt bad. He had helped them, after all. Gwindor could have lost more blood if he hadn't removed the blade, and would be even worse off. She should be grateful. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be unkind. But now is not the time."

"Of course, my lady," Devrin said agreeably - but failed to take the hint to make himself scarce for awhile, and continued to watch Tempest work.

Eventually, the healer indicated she had done all she could. "He's stable for now. Let's get him back to camp."