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Shastah's talons settled into the packed earth as his wings folded, and he trotted the remaining distance to the door to Fefga's mansion. The White Wolf of Daein gently squeezed Ninian's hand in his own, then slid his arms back from around her and clambered down off his mount's back. He helped her down next, then unstrapped Nils' unconscious body and lifted him down. "There we go... Alright. Shas?"

The masked man raised his eyes to look right into the enormous wyvern's, as if they were holding a private conversation, and then the majestic beast slunk off around the house to settle down in the stable while Siegell carried the young bard inside. He made a calculated stagger on the front step, but kept his footing-- he wanted to remind Ninian that he was still suffering from a bit of blood loss and was probably getting tired.

They reached FEFGA's house safely, as Ninian knew they would. Siegell squeezed her hand gently before dismounting, helping her down after him. He lifted Nils, sending Shastah to the stables before carrying the sleeping bard inside. Ninian saw him trip, and reached out a hand to catch him, but he caught himself.

"Um, Siegell?" she ventured, "Let's find a bed for Nils, alright? You look worn out yourself, and I know you're hurt as well. . . ."

He hadn't fully recovered from that woman's attack, she remembered. Fighting Nils only used up more of his strength. Now that she knew Nils was going to be okay, she could worry about everyone else, Siegell included. Perhaps Siegell most of all, since he'd gotten injured because she wasn't strong enough to save her brother sooner. But what about Sue, and Rhys, and Amelia, and everyone else? Were they okay?

Nils comes first, she thought. We'll get Nils to a comfortable place where he can rest, and then I'll worry about everyone else.

Victoria heard Amelia. She really did. However, just as she was about to reply how Arashe was, Rhys needed the General. She wasn't about to interfere with that.

Instead, she watched, relieved to see Siegell come through the doors with Ninian and Nils, along with Tibarn, joyful to see Vah, but exhausted. Only a few of her Order were missing from the safehouse. In the morning, I'll search for them. The tactician and the others.

For now, she remained alert and silent... and also decided to go back into the darkness, in the chair she set Arashe in. He was as still as a statue.

He never moved, huh? Poor thing. Just like the others... he's completely exhausted.

She returned to her chair by the scented candle, letting it further soothe her. The bishop wanted to be ready to heal if necessary, so she didn't sleep.

Rhys burst out laughing. Wow, he hadn't even slapped her and ALREADY she'd made him a sammich!

"...Well..."

Truthfully, Rhys wasn't sure. Maybe if he fell asleep after eating, he could manage it, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to stomach anything with meat in it. He paused a moment to think about how long it had been since he initially fell sick and whether he could... oh, screw it.

"It'll be fine, thank you," he said with a smile, sitting up a bit more. He still had yet to change out of his clothes--he'd have to do that sooner or later. These robes were getting uncomfortable. He removed his hands from under the covers and took the plate and glass. Starting with the glass of water, he took a few sips, swirling the contents around in his mouth to try and get rid of the taste of bile.

SLAP. The cloth had fallen off his forehead and had fallen on the floor. It had been starting to warm up and dry out anyway, and likely needed a new coat of water on it.

"Oh, darn it all," Rhys said as it fell off his bed. "Could you bend over and pick that up, please? ...Actually, it could probably use another soaking, too."

He frowned. Now that the initial pleasure of having Amelia care for him was wearing off, he felt a bit ashamed that she was doing all this because he pushed himself too hard. He hoped she didn't mind.

As Amelia leaned over, Rhys couldn't help but notice something...

Her shirt is... loose.

Before he could stop himself, forgetting a number of things about social etiquette and the rest of the world, he slowly inclined his head backward, trying to get a look further down Amelia's top. He could begin to see the beginnings of curves, but before he could see any further, she sat up again, leaving Rhys with a split second to pretend he was just looking around the room for no particular reason.

BLAST! So close...

He gave a small moan of pleasure as she returned to lay the cloth back down on his burning forehead. Damp cloths did so much to keep a fever down. At the very least, they felt nice. "Thank you, dear," he said, reclining back a bit. He felt a bit more comfortable.

Taking another small sip, he realized that he wasn't falling asleep any time soon.

"So..." he paused. "Do you think we're winning? These fights, I mean. We got back Rei and Nils, but... what about Tibarn, and everyone else?"

Renault, who'd been a bit distracted by things he'd been thinking about, snapped out of his reverie when he felt a familiar presence slide back into the house. A smile made its way onto his face, though tinged with a bit of worry. Was the boy okay? Was he injured? The bishop had to know. Rushing out of his room, he made his way downstairs, to check on the newcomer.

A group seemed to have gathered there already, but Renault made his way through gently, getting close enough to speak to the bard. "Nils. . . I'm glad you're okay." His smile was colored a bit by the tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes. "I'm sorry, for earlier. . . I know it wasn't really you in control, but it felt horrible to have to fight someone I cared about." He reached out and rested his hand on the boy's forehead gently. "Promise that you'll do your best to recover soon. All right?"

With a smile, the man nodded. "I'm perfectly fine. Rhys, although I'm not exactly confident in his fighting skill, is a great healer. And it wasn't your fault, Nils. You had no control over yourself at that time, and I don't blame you one bit." After pausing for a moment, he leaned forward and embraced the young bard gently. "All that matters is that you're back with us. A few little wounds are much more acceptable than losing someone who matters to us.'

". . . Oh! Well. I feel like a bit of an idiot now," Renault mumbled, unslinging his staff from his back. "Of course, you'd be injured. . . and I didn't even notice." He laughed a bit, albeit nervously, and held his staff over Nils' shoulder. "Here, just hold still for a moment and your shoulder will be fine. Then we can move onto whatever other wounds you might have." He was feeling good again. He could be of some use instead of just sitting around taking care of children. Which he wasn't very good at. "It won't be long, then you'll be all fixed up."