Arri/Rod'r'k
============

"Martyn..." Arri said looking up at the rider  who's arms were still
supporting the tiny healer. "Why don't you take Koda over to the dining hall
and make sure she eats something."

"But he's got to..."

"But I need to get back out..."

They both protested the idea quickly.

"Look I don't really know what's going on here," Arkt'han spoke up. "But I
can see how important it is that Martyn here find someone for the healer..
so why don't I take her over to the hall and feed her. I can get something
to eat myself at the same time."

"That sounds like as good of an idea as any." Arri glanced skeptically at
Lakoda. "I get the feeling you're a sight worse than you're letting on. I'm
tired, but until the patient levels out, there's little I can do but sit
here anyway."

"Go on little Raven.. eat. Then try and get some rest," Arri told her,
pushing her gently in the direction of her hall. "We'll manage just fine
without you for a little while."

The young woman attempted to sputter another excuse why she couldn't leave,
but Arri had tuned her out and turned back to the prone figure beneath her
hands. The new fellow, Ar'ka'than, was leading her out to get something to
eat. Sooner or later A'rillia was going to need to do the same.

In the meanwhile, she had something to keep her occupied between scrapes and
bruises. While it was great to be needed, and in a way, the accident had
given her a way to come back into the Warren without having to answer the
inevitable questions, she wished she wasn't running herself ragged.

In the brief moment of silence, Arri choked back tears for her mother. She
couldn't afford them. Not now. There would be a time when she could cry, but
not until everyone was safe.

The healer sighed and scrubbed at her raw eyes for a moment before lighting
a nearby lantern. The least she could do was find the fellow some clean
scrubs. They'd pretty much denuded him and he was wrapped in a sheet.

She almost didn't hear the coughing behind her as she rummaged through the
chest of gowns and uniforms. When she finally noticed it, she stood up and
turned to the patient with an armful of clothes. He had tipped his head up a
few inches. That was likely what made him start coughing.

"Lie back down. I'm just finding you a clean set of clothes here," she
admonished. "And no sass about me dressing you either. I took them off to
clean you up, I can put them back on." The coughing eased, and the healer
nodded in satisfaction as she walked over to the gurney. He had laid back
down and closed his eyes, but he wasn't sleeping as she pulled the thin
cotton pants over his legs and snugged them about his waist.

She ran her fingers gingerly across his ribs, checking one last time for
signs of breakage, but miraculously enough, he seemed intact. If you could
call someone with ribs you could play like a xylophone "intact", she amended
silently.

"Water," he muttered softly.

A'rillia grabbed a small squeeze bottle of cool water and sprinkled some
into his mouth. When he tried to reach for it, she took it away. "You can't
do that, you need to take it a little at a time or you'll just sick it back
up." When he dropped his hands, she trickled a little more water into his
mouth and paused.

With a slight nod, she put the bottle down. "You're badly overexposed and
mostly starved, stranger. You have to do everything in small doses, okay?"
Haggard blue eyes blinked back at her for a moment and he inclined his head
very slightly.

"Where...?" The voice was a little less choked, but it definitely hadn't
been used for a while. Arri waved at an orderly and pointed to the broth
bowl with a wan smile. Goddess knows they had enough to do without her
hassling them, but she was oddly worried about this natty looking fellow
with eyes the colour of her favorite lake east of Falagand. He seemed hurt
deep inside somewhere, like the body was only the outward sigil of some deep
abiding pain. Something about those eyes... almost hunted.

"Your guess is as good as mine, to be honest, lad." Arri chuckled. "At the
moment, you're in what's left of the Marrid Warren medical center. Where we
actually ARE, I haven't the slightest idea."

The orderly came back with the broth and a sandwich for the healer. She
laughed at him and smiled. "Thanks lad. I guess he's not the only one around
here needs to be fed against his own good sense." The youngster grinned and
ducked away respectfully.

"Who...?"

Running a hand through stubbly hair, the healer sighed. "What we used to
call a dead woman walking in the Guild of Swords, I guess. I should have
gotten myself offed a few times by now. It certainly looks like you've been
trying to do so to yourself." She didn't notice the strange look that
crossed his face at the mention of the guild.

"A'Rillia Maeglin Sage at your service. Joined of Daetyn, part time help at
the medical center, resident Dragonhealer and sometime bard, singer, poet,
dancer and decent sparring partner. Mostly specializing in being neurotic
and saving other people's hides." Gently, she held his head still and shoved
a couple of spoonfuls of broth into him before inquiring, "And where might
you be from?"

"Hell," he croaked. "And everywhere in-between."

The healer erupted with laughter at that. "Well then we should get along
famously. Don't think that's going to get you out of here anytime before you
have some meat on you though." A yawn escaped her lips as she attempted to
take a bite of her sandwich. "You're not getting any solid food just yet
either, so stop eyeing up my sandwich."

He smiled. It was a nice smile, even in a face as gaunt as his, gently
teasing. Perhaps if he were shaved and properly bathed and didn't look like
a sack of forgotten kindling with sticks poking out every which way but
yonder, it were the kind of smile that would make women look a few times.

Putting the sandwich down, she fed him another mouthful of water before
pulling the blankets up over his chest. The orderly returned to take her
place as she provided a few last minute instructions before walking out of
the tent into the cool night. He needed rest and a fairly steady - if slow -
diet of broth and water until his blood built up again.

Staggering a little, she made her way to where Daetyn was curled up drowsing
not far from the medical center tent. If anyone needed her, the dragon made
a plenty big landmark for them to shoot for. The healer fumbled out a
sleeping bag and pillow to arrange in the grass to rest on and dropped
clumsily to the ground.

It only occurred to her when her exhausted face touched the pillow under the
moonlight that she forgot to ask the patient his name.

---------------------------
NRPG:
Someone needs a nap. *GRIN*
Dave, I hope I didn't misplay Roderick too badly.