Although bloodied and weary, Rondulin still radiated an aura of strength and respect as he paced down towards the settlers' camps. Lilith's eyes remained locked on his form as she had done when he had been fighting: they traced the red drips that encircled his shirt and followed the line of his neck, to his bruised cheeks that contrasted with his pale skin. Perhaps, in another given circumstances, it would have been a pleasurable view to look at, for he very much reminded her of her father, but then, her mind was filled with pain and nothingness alike. It held no place for small delights.
The man bid they ate before going to sleep, which was not something she was intending to oppose. Food was already being prepared and she knew that, soon after eating, she would be given the chance to curl up beneath thick layers of wool and pretend to fall asleep. If her eyes did close, however, her dreams would not allow for peace. Not after what she had seen that night on the battlefield.
"And Saela?" Lixander mumbled, turning his head in the direction that the young girl was going. They had both seen her fight and get injured, yet none knew for sure whether she was alright. It was difficult to judge by her stance; she was a strong woman who did not show weakness and fragility, no matter how much pain or suffering pearled in her veins.
However, the knight did not wait for an answer. Instead, he dashed back up on his feet from his seat and, taking the bag the healer had given him along, he made his way towards the tent where she seemed to be heading. Not many of such had been built that evening, only enough to shield the wounded from the wrath of nature or the scourging winds of the night. Inherently, she would not wish to be standing by the scalding fire with her wounds only veiled by a piece of cotton.
Lilith did stay put in her place. Her gaze only trailed after the knight for a brief moment, before her attention was taken away by the aroma of meat and warm milk in her vicinity. With small steps, a women donning the dark clothes of an apprentice tiptoed towards them, holding a small wooden plate filled with freshly toasted bread, smoked ham coated in a blanket of spicy herbs, thick slices of crumbling sour cheese and a tall wooden cup, which she was struggling to balance on the edge of the tray.
When her eyes met the King's, she gave him a humble nod instead of a bow and quickly placed the tray down. "Forgive me, if I had known you were here, my King... I will bring the rest to you, I will, but I thought..." She bobbed her head in a gesture of pity towards the girl who was eyeing the food so attentively. Lilith noticed it from the corner of her eyes and quickly stiffened.
"It is alright, he may have it," she murmured with a touch of theatrical nonchalance, before slipping her hand into her leather bag to pull out the food she had left from the night before. In truth, she would have eaten dirt for a moment of silence, given the woman left at once.
Which she did, quickly enough, although not before lingering to await an answer from her superior.
As soon as she was gone, Lilith removed the stained napkin she had placed around her bread and brought it to her lips to take a bite. It tasted just as good as she remembered from the day before, and her stomach gave a muffled growl of contentment at the delicacy it was finally receiving.
It felt strange for a sheep to eat in front of a wolf, as if at any given time, he could hurl down upon her and snatch it from between her fingers, if not feast upon the tender flesh itself. Stranger was the sensation of safety that said wolf gave her; she no longer felt threatened, and that worried her. As she tried to seed disgust and dread in herself at the thought of him, the memory of herself clinging onto him just moments before made her way back into her mind and clouded her judgement in a veil of fervent embroilment.
'Life for a life. You owe him nothing.'
And yet there she was, cautiously lifting her curious gaze back to him as she pushed the tray towards him with the tip of her boot. It was a gesture of gratitude, perhaps some sort of amendment, even if she was not truly convinced. He had saved her for her value, not her worth: to him, she was a princess, not a human, a treasure, not a soul. In spite of his words, she felt as much, and her guts rarely lied.
"Do you... Are you hurt?" Lilith found herself asking as soon as she finished gulping down on a few bites. Her throat hurt, but she did not care, so long as her hunger was quenched.
Behind her, men and women who had not put effort into the fight were consuming their energy on laying down thick bed rolls, rimmed with fur, and throwing on blankets of ermine to whomever demanded them. Only the sight of it twisted her stomach; she did wish to sleep only too badly, but her only reasons to stay awake right then were the food in her hands and the man who stood before her. The pylon to guard her throughout the knight, whose wounds might as well not allow him to pull through to daylight.
It was the price he had paid for saving her, and even if the poppy would have almost gladly spilled his blood one night before, in that moment, she could only blame herself for the blood she had drawn for merely existing near him.
The man bid they ate before going to sleep, which was not something she was intending to oppose. Food was already being prepared and she knew that, soon after eating, she would be given the chance to curl up beneath thick layers of wool and pretend to fall asleep. If her eyes did close, however, her dreams would not allow for peace. Not after what she had seen that night on the battlefield.
"And Saela?" Lixander mumbled, turning his head in the direction that the young girl was going. They had both seen her fight and get injured, yet none knew for sure whether she was alright. It was difficult to judge by her stance; she was a strong woman who did not show weakness and fragility, no matter how much pain or suffering pearled in her veins.
However, the knight did not wait for an answer. Instead, he dashed back up on his feet from his seat and, taking the bag the healer had given him along, he made his way towards the tent where she seemed to be heading. Not many of such had been built that evening, only enough to shield the wounded from the wrath of nature or the scourging winds of the night. Inherently, she would not wish to be standing by the scalding fire with her wounds only veiled by a piece of cotton.
Lilith did stay put in her place. Her gaze only trailed after the knight for a brief moment, before her attention was taken away by the aroma of meat and warm milk in her vicinity. With small steps, a women donning the dark clothes of an apprentice tiptoed towards them, holding a small wooden plate filled with freshly toasted bread, smoked ham coated in a blanket of spicy herbs, thick slices of crumbling sour cheese and a tall wooden cup, which she was struggling to balance on the edge of the tray.
When her eyes met the King's, she gave him a humble nod instead of a bow and quickly placed the tray down. "Forgive me, if I had known you were here, my King... I will bring the rest to you, I will, but I thought..." She bobbed her head in a gesture of pity towards the girl who was eyeing the food so attentively. Lilith noticed it from the corner of her eyes and quickly stiffened.
"It is alright, he may have it," she murmured with a touch of theatrical nonchalance, before slipping her hand into her leather bag to pull out the food she had left from the night before. In truth, she would have eaten dirt for a moment of silence, given the woman left at once.
Which she did, quickly enough, although not before lingering to await an answer from her superior.
As soon as she was gone, Lilith removed the stained napkin she had placed around her bread and brought it to her lips to take a bite. It tasted just as good as she remembered from the day before, and her stomach gave a muffled growl of contentment at the delicacy it was finally receiving.
It felt strange for a sheep to eat in front of a wolf, as if at any given time, he could hurl down upon her and snatch it from between her fingers, if not feast upon the tender flesh itself. Stranger was the sensation of safety that said wolf gave her; she no longer felt threatened, and that worried her. As she tried to seed disgust and dread in herself at the thought of him, the memory of herself clinging onto him just moments before made her way back into her mind and clouded her judgement in a veil of fervent embroilment.
'Life for a life. You owe him nothing.'
And yet there she was, cautiously lifting her curious gaze back to him as she pushed the tray towards him with the tip of her boot. It was a gesture of gratitude, perhaps some sort of amendment, even if she was not truly convinced. He had saved her for her value, not her worth: to him, she was a princess, not a human, a treasure, not a soul. In spite of his words, she felt as much, and her guts rarely lied.
"Do you... Are you hurt?" Lilith found herself asking as soon as she finished gulping down on a few bites. Her throat hurt, but she did not care, so long as her hunger was quenched.
Behind her, men and women who had not put effort into the fight were consuming their energy on laying down thick bed rolls, rimmed with fur, and throwing on blankets of ermine to whomever demanded them. Only the sight of it twisted her stomach; she did wish to sleep only too badly, but her only reasons to stay awake right then were the food in her hands and the man who stood before her. The pylon to guard her throughout the knight, whose wounds might as well not allow him to pull through to daylight.
It was the price he had paid for saving her, and even if the poppy would have almost gladly spilled his blood one night before, in that moment, she could only blame herself for the blood she had drawn for merely existing near him.
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