#he has like two whole ass songs about fuckin nasty but he's just a lil baby yknow?

[thatgoddamngingerundercut]

‘Butter’ Jacket Shoot Sketch Day Three - Jungkook

[diddlesanddoodles]

DUMPLING ch 22

She awoke to the sound of bird song and the pleasant warmth of the sun shining through the glass of the window. Beneath the blankets and her dress, her ribs only vaguely hurt as she took in a big breath. Her sick bed had been set onto a window sill overlooking one of the gardens at her request. Though Yaesha would move her back closer to the fire at night as he worried the cold would slow her healing.

A little over a week of recovery had dulled the pain greatly and her bruises had all but healed. Most of the wyvern attack was a blur to her and she could only recall the day’s events vaguely. She did remember the smoke man, however. Despite her dread of it, he had since failed to materialized, though she spent many sleepless nights wondering if she had wholly imagined him. Having been told that she had hit her head pretty hard, jumbled thoughts, recall difficulties, and false memories were to be expected. At least that was so according to Yaesha, the royal physician, and Sawyer, a human healer to whom he was guardian. Sawyer was tall for a woman and kept her hair cropped short and wore trousers and tunics rather than dresses or skirts. In fact, had she not been in possession of a distinctly feminine voice, Nenani might have mistaken her for a man entirely.

“You try sewing up a giant’s wound in a petticoat and bodice,” the human woman replied when Nenani had asked about her choice of wardrobe. “Better yet, try to wash it afterwards. Unlike Yaesha, I actually do my own laundry. Much easier to clean blood from black shirts and leather tunics and trousers. I’m a healer, gal, not a homemaker.”

Her answer felt well practiced, but her tone was amiable and blasé about the frank nature of her work. Yaesha was treating the twenty something giants who had sustained various forms of injury, including Bart. His arms had wickedly painful looking scraps where the wyvern’s claws had caught him as well as a bruised cheek. Gjerk was there was well with a black eye and torn ear that needed sewing back up. Both were discharged mere hours after coming in and none of them were permitted to see here, much to their frustration.

As Yaesha went about his work treating the injured Vhassalans, Sawyer was beset upon Nenani at the behest of many anxious giants. Lolly among them as she was the one who had fetched her from Maevis.

“Not a clue why he thought he knew how to treat a human,” Sawyer said as she wiped blood from Nenani’s face with a damp cloth where her bottom lip had split. “He must be in shock. Poor guy looked like he was gonna faint. Barnaby must be in pieces. They always get that way when one or the other is stressed or hurt. Them two are precious when they get that way, but really. Maevis knows there is an order ‘round here. Should have brought you straight to me.”

Nenani was not much well in the way to carry the conversation, but tried to add in when she could.  

“They’re friends,” she added, trying to quell the dizziness she was feeling. The room would not stop spinning. “It’s good to have someone who cares...”

Sawyer laughed, dipping the cloth back into a bucket of water. “I’ll second that. Don’t know what I’d be without Yaesha. Aside from dead. He was the one who found me y’know. Saved my ass, brought me back here and let me heal up and offered to let me be his tag along since I was a trained healer.”

“What happened?” Nenani asked, wincing when the wet cloth was brought over to her shoulder to wipe away dirt from a nasty gash in her shoulder.

“Got careless,” Sawyer replied, carefully cleaning Nenani’s many scrapes clean of grime. “Got caught. Almost ended up as someone’s dinner. Yaesha was being his nosey self and stopped ‘em from gutting me like a lipper. He traded them a remedy for piles in exchange for me. Now, no more talking. I need to clean all this blood and muck off and see what I’m working with...”

Sawyer was not like any woman that Nenani had ever known and she had a strange ability to distract those being treated with stories so they were not even aware of her treating their wounds. So when she had to perform a movement that would be particularly painful, the patient would be too enraptured by the story to notice until the pain hit. Not being able to anticipate the pain made the whole ordeal that much more tolerable.

As her injuries were serious enough to warrant prolonged observation, she was only able to receive visitors after the first three days. Yaesha wanted to make sure she had pulled through the worst of it. But apparently, three days was far too long for many.  

“Farris is beyond cross with me,” he said to Sawyer as she changed the bandages on Nenani’s leg. It was only the second day and Nenani was still suffering from a horrendous headache and barely aware of anything yet thanks to the medicines she had been given which had sedative properties. Though they were peaking softly, their voices felt like claws inside her brain. “He’s tried to barge in here three times today. I don’t know how many other ways there are to phrase ‘She has a concussion. She needs rest. Go away!’ Besides, he should be resting that damn leg!”

“He’s scared for her,” Sawyer answered as she tucked Nenani’s bandaged leg back under the covers. “She looked like death when they brought her in. Mumbling about shadows or some such thing...”

Yaesha first had her bed set up in his private office so he could keep an eye on her. Sawyer assured him, that she was capable of doing it on her own, but Yaesha insisted. “I do not doubt your skill in the least. I am merely being cautious.”

“You’re being nosy,” she countered.  

Yaesha’s office in many ways reminded Nenani of the spice pantry. Tall shelves filled with incomprehensible knick knacks and books and jars. So many jars. Some were filled with innocuous items like river stones or dried leaves. Others were filled with persevered animals, suspended in discolored fluid. Hanging from the ceiling, suspended from ropes tie to the rafters, was a full skeleton of a whale. The main room of the infirmary was a long hall filled with cots and at its center was a long hearth, not too dissimilar from that in the kitchen. A young maid tended the fire most of the day and assisted Yaesha with the more menial tasks such as cleaning and tending to the daily needs of the injured. Most who had sustain injuries from the attack had been released and allowed to either return to their duties or allowed to recuperate in their own rooms. Those who remained, including Nenani, had sustained some form of head trauma and required careful and close observation for a time.

Though she had been happy when Sawyer assured her that no one from kitchen was present among the worse hurt, she could not help the anxious need to see for herself.

“Scrapes and scratches,” Sawyer told her. “They’re all walking around fine.”

It was the morning of her third day that Farris was finally allowed to see Nenani and she could hear Yaesha instructing the kitchen master he only had a few minutes and to not tire her out. Her anxiety leaped when Farris walked into the room. Or rather, as he limped into the room. His right hand was bandaged as was his right leg and he clearly favored it.  

“You are hurt...” she said with concern. She could not help but feel as though Sawyer had lied.  

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yer sittin’ there looking like a mauled rabbit and worryin’ ‘bout me?” Farris grinned, his good humor inflated by his very palpable relief to see her sitting up and most certainly not dead. Her head, arms, and legs had all been bandaged and her right cheek was heavily bruised. He took a chair and eased into it, wincing only a little as he lowered himself into it. “Ya really are one lucky lil’ buggar, Dumplin’.”

“Is anyone else is hurt?” she asked, voice hoarse. She was very thirsty, but was under orders not to drink anything unless under Sawyer’s observation. They were still concerned about possible internal bleeding and the best she had been given was a damp piece of cloth to chew on so her mouth would not dry out.

“Nothin’ to fret over. A’course ya wouldn’t know it by their bellyachin’” he said her. “Cuts and a few bite marks. A torn ear. The kitchens are a right mess, though. They’re still surveyin’ the damage.”

“What happened to the monster?” she asked, forgetting the name for the enormous winged lizard.

“Maevis bunt it t’cinders,” he replied with a vindictive satisfaction in his words. “Nothing left of the fucker but charred bones.”

Memories and fragments of the passed few days flickered in her head, but she was unable to piece anything together and it hurt to try.

“Maevis,” she mumbled. She could hear his voice in her head, chanting something and apologizing to her and he was...crying? “Is he…?”

“Yer magician’s just fine, lass. Got a nice bite mark on an arm fer all ‘is trouble, but he’ll live,” Farris told her. He raised his hand as though to reach out to her, but stopped and settled for placing his hand at the end of her bed. “He saved ya from that thing, lil’un. Came out of fuckin’ no where and grabbed ya up from it before it could gets its teeth around ya.”

“I don’t remember...” she said weakly, putting a hand her head.

“Don’t tire yerself out none, lass,” He said softly. He eyes were tired and she could see he had not been sleeping well. “Sawyer’s gonna take good care of ya fer me, alright? Get some rest.”

She nodded, feeling the weight of sleep beginning to drag at her mind and by the time Farris was at the door, she was asleep.

………………………………………………...

“It’ll leave a scar,” Sawyer was saying, wrapping the spent bandages around her hand and surveying Nenani’s shoulder. Her smock was pulled down to reveal a six inch long gash starting from the top of her shoulder and traveling down towards her heart. Black thread stitched the wound closed and for as alarming of a sight it was, it was healed. Yaesha loomed over his companion, squinting into his spectacles to study the wound for himself. “Hm. Yes, I have to agree. But your clothes will hide it nicely, so don’t fret.”

Sawyer pulled out a small pair of sheers from her bag and then from her front pocket, a small bottle of amber liquid.  

“What’s that?” Nenani asked of the small bottle.

“Whiskey,” Sawyer grinned. “Keral’s whiskey to be precise.”

She looked at Sawyer in surprise and seeming to read her thoughts, the healer laughed loudly. “No, it’s not for drinking!”

To show her, Sawyer pulled the stop from the little bottle and poured the fluid onto the sheers, allowing the access to drip onto a wad of cloth. The smell was unpleasant and made Nenani scrunch her nose in disgust. She had never liked the smell of alcohol, but this was nothing like the yeasty smelling ale that they drank in the kitchens. This was pungent and smokey and medicinal.

“I clean all my tools like this,” Sawyer explained. “Or I boil them. Helps keep away infections.”

“It just doesn’t smell very pleasant,” Yaesha added, observing her with a disapproving eye. “I wish you would use something else...”

“But it works!” Sawyer grinned, bringing the little bottle to her lips and swallowing the small bit remaining. She grimaced as it hit her throat. “Ugh. I like it better watered down a bit. Hoo-boy! It’s strong.”  

She wiped the excess whiskey from the sheers and then wiped the dampened cloth across the area on and around Nenani’s wound. Above them, Yaesha sighed.

“My dear,” Yaesha pleaded, rubbing his temple. “Please refrain from your indulgences until after you’ve removed the sutures.”

“Yes, mother,” Sawyer replied failing to suppress her gleeful smile. Seeing Nenani’s bewildered expression, Sawyer winked. “Let’s get you unwrapped and back to the kitchen, huh? Those boys have been biting at the bit waitin’ for you to be released.”

Nenani smiled gratefully and nodded. In no time, her stitched were gone as well as her bandages. Her less serious scrapes and cuts had scabbed over and the bruise on her cheek was fading, though it still hurt for her to put any pressure on it. They began gathering some medicines for her to take with her to ease the remaining pains.

“This will help if you start to feel dizzy,” Yaesha said, using a dropper to fill a small bottle with a faint greenish liquid. He held the tiny glass container delicately between two bony fingers, squinting hard to make sure to deposit the correct amount. “Farris is familiar with this recipe so he will be able to brew more should you deplete this ration, but if the dizziness persists, he is to bring you straight to me. Fair warning, he does not brew his with honey, so it will be much less palatable.”

Yaesha was an older Vhasshalan, but his long hair was still a dark black with only a few strands of gray near his temples. He may have even been tall for a giant, but it was near impossible to really tell as he stooped over so much. He wore robes much like Maevis, but instead of maroon, Yaesha’s robes were a deep purple. He possessed a long hawkish nose and small, dull gray eyes.  

“Sawyer is preparing some tonic of Valerian blossoms for you as well,” he said, glancing at her meaningfully. “To help you sleep more peacefully.”

“Will it really help?” she asked, recalling the nightmare she had just that morning.

“It will make you sleep deeper,” the physician replied. “Which will keep you from dreaming, but should also keep you from experiencing nightmares. It is potent, so use only a drop just before sleep.”

Her memory was slowly piecing itself back together and she had a much clearer picture of what had happened that day. But with it also came the nightmares. Most nights of her recovery, she saw him. The smoke fillings her vision, tendrils of black curling around her, and red eyes staring at her from the skull of a stag. A flash of a sword…

The sound of someone knocking interrupted her thoughts and both her and Yaesha turned to look at the office door.

“Enter,” Yaesha said and the door creaked open and a blue coated ranger stepped inside. “Oh! Keral, what brings you in? I’m just finishing up here if you’d like…”

“It’s the squeaker there I’m lookin’ fer, actually,” Keral said, stepping inside. His clothes were clean and his hair and beard combed, looking very different from the last time they had met.

“Oh? I was under the impression Yale was coming to fetch her,” Yaesha replied, bemused and a little suspicious.  

“Oh, he very well may be. I just have some questions to ask the lil’un first. Just some lose ends to tie up. Won’t take long.”

“Oh. Oh, well...I suppose that is alright.”

“Alone. If you don’t mind.”

Yaesha eyed the ranger. “Alone?”

Keral’s careful composure faltered and he stared at the physician, incredulous. “What? I ain’t gonna do anythin’. Yer lookin’ at me like I’m gonna eat her!”

Yaesha hummed to himself and then nodded. He seemed satisfied enough. “Very well. I’ll see to my other patients then.”

The older Vhasshalan left, closing the door behind him. Keral stared at the door and shook his head, muttering under his breath. With a sigh, he turned to Nenani. “How’s ya noggin’, sweetling?”

“Hurts,” she answered honestly.  

“Aye,” Keral replied with a faint grin. “Suppose ya got a good crack from that lizard, eh?”

The ranger grabbed the chair that Yaesha had been sitting in and fell into it with a lazy crash. He looked fatigued. Leaning back, he set his hands on his lap and regarded Nenani with a serious expression. “So, remember when we had the tea party in the library a bit ago? Maevis was helpin’ me look fer somethin’...”

She nodded.

“Well, understand me here, lass. I’ve got all these puzzle pieces I’m tryin’ to put together and I’ve been feelin’ like I’ve been chasing shadows for months lookin’ fer this thing. And until that little party, I didn’t know what – or who – I might be lookin’ fer.” He paused, sitting up in the chair and leaning forward to rent his elbow on his knees. “And then Maevis got a good look at that big ol’ lizard up close. He said there was somethin’ off about it that he didn’t much care fer. Gave ‘im the willies. Not sure what it was, but he says he felt somethin’ that mornin’ before it showed up too. Some sort of magic and it wasn’t ‘cause ‘a no wyvern.”

Unease settle in her belly like a lead rock.  

“Magic?” she asked. “Like...the smoke mage Barnaby mentioned?”

He nodded, the edge of his mouth quirking into a smirk.  

“Barnaby gave me a piece to m’ puzzle that day. Meeves gave me another this morning,” Keral lifted a gloved hand and pointed at her. “And I’m bettin’ ye might just have one fer me too, sweetling.”

“Me?” she asked. He didn’t say anything, merely watched her expectantly and the weight of that stare was enormous. The smell of the hearth in the other room brought the memories back easily now. Smoke filled her lungs and the stag skull mask flashed in her mind. Red eyes looking down at her as a dark blade rose…

For her time in recovery she had managed to cling to the idea that they were all manifestations of her nightmares. But she knew it wasn’t true. And more so, she understood that to remain silent was not the path to take. This was not a pile off some dusty bones of a long dead person chanting nonsense at her. That man had been real and corporeal and dangerous. And yet, their words had been the same...

The river runs uphill to the dying songs of the fall of fools and Kings that tear flesh from bone and the crown from the mountain. Water runs red with fire and shall rise when the old blood runs new. The flesh taken will be paid in blood and the dead walls will rise with gold...

“Nenani,” Keral’s voice broke her from her thoughts. “Maevis said you were covered in that magic he sensed. It was all over ya like mud. Now, I know ya saw somethin’ none of us did. I need ya to tell me. Tell me true, lass. Was he here?”

“I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret,” she told him. “I wasn’t even sure if it had happened for real or if hitting my head so hard messed my brain up...”

Keral did not say anything and merely watched her with interest.

“I... I saw it...him. The smoke mage...”

Keral’s expression did not change, but somehow his eyes looked that much more intense. “Ye did?”

Nenani nodded, alarmed at how her hands were trembling. “He was in the kitchens when the...the way..wavey..”

“Wyvern.”

“Wyvern,” she echoed looking at her hands. “He came out of the hearth and...there was smoke. And he was made of smoke. And then he wasn’t...”

He seemed to be staring beyond her, focusing on something far off as though mentally putting his puzzle pieces together. He seemed dissatisfied. “Did he say anythin’ to ya? Anythin’ at all?”

“He did,” she replied uneasily. “...kind of.”

“Tell me,” Keral said, his voice more gentle that the predatory look in his eyes would suggest. “Anything ye can recall. I need ya t’ tell me.”

“He was saying that prophecy,” Nenani said, wringing her hands. “About the Gold King. But he didn’t say anything else. Just that. And then he...he tried to...”

“...kill you?” She looked up and Keral was a lot closer than he had been. He was standing, looming over her and she was surprised to find herself suddenly afraid of him. There was a dangerous look to his eyes and she shrank back on instinct. She nodded, eyes blurred with sudden tears. Her throat hurt and her chest heaved.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry for not saying anything before...”

“Ya haven’t seen ‘im since?”

“No.”

Keral drew in a long breath, setting himself back into the seat and crossing his arms. For several long moments, he did not say anything as he became engrossed with his own thought processes. When his eyes focused on Nenani once more, his steely eyes softened and he chuckled.

“Ah, now. Don’t be givin’ me that look. Yer in no trouble, sweetling,” he said. “Didn’t mean to scare ya none. Just frustrated is all.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?” she asked him.

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” he replied and seeing the mounting horror on Nenani’s face, he waved a palliative hand. “Now, now. Don’t start that up. I’m sure ya have nothin’ to be frettin’ over.”

She balked at him. “Keral, he tried to kill me! With a sword!”

He nodded, conceding the point. “Aye, but I don’t think ya were ‘is true target.”

“You...you don’t?” she asked, a fluttering in her chest.

He shook his head. “Nah, I don’t. S’why I’m sure he’ll be back and my intentions are t’be ready when he does.”

“Why would he attack me then?”

“Simple. Ye were a witness. He probably thought the wyvern would be a nice distraction while he got inside castle grounds all sneaky like. Most certainly wasn’t expected a wee squeaker to give him away so quickly. Mages get like that, y’know. All hubris and overconfidence. Almost always their downfall. That and they’re usually right cowards when their magic fails ‘em.” He paused, considering. “An’ ya said he was chantin’ the Gold Prophecy?”

“Yeah.”

“Sounds like a right pompous twit,” She could almost see the proverbial ball bounce around Keral’s mind and he grinned smugly, an excited and nearly predatory glee in his face. “He won’t be gettin’ another chance like that, I can promise ye. Now that Maevis’s got a good feel fer the bastard’s magic, I’ll be able to track ‘im better and this trekkin’ all over creation can fuckin’ end.” He paused to nod at her. “So don’t ye be worryin’ none about ‘im, eh? He won’t be gettin’ anywhere near this castle now that I’ve got ‘is scent. And best know Farris’d have my arse fer curtains if somethin’ were to happen to ya when I could’a done something ‘bout it.”

He reached out to her and lightly pinched at her arm, teasing. “Ye just gave me the last piece ‘a the puzzle, lass. I thank ya.”

“I did?” she asked.

Kera stood with a renewed sense of purpose and direction. He snorted as he strode towards the door, glancing over his shoulder at her. “I think Maevis was right about old bumblin’ Bertol’s prophecies, after all. Those words are dangerous when lunatics start belivin’ they’re all about them.”