Laesara savored it, her eyes closed. Consciousness rolled over her, as gradual as the tide. Though she feared that this was only a brief reprieve, that the fog and darkness and blazing heat would return soon, the clarity grew and strengthened. I don't think she thought That my mind has ever been this clear. It was a beautiful feeling, and she let it linger even as she opened her eyes to bright sunlight. It made her squint, but not painfully – it was beautiful. She nearly laughed at the feeling, and only did not because her voice was not yet ready for laughter. She sat up, feeling so totally awake and alive that she almost couldn't believe it. Was the nightmare finally over?
Guided by instinct, her hand moved to rest on her bonded's head, laying beside her on the bed. Her movements were feeble, uncoordinated, but it was only because of disuse. She felt strong again, health returned to her. She stroked the sleeping Khehora's head. “Thank you.” she managed. She realized, then, that she was monstrously thirsty. She struggled out of bed, feeling as though she was immersed in sweet, sunlit honey as she staggered to the dresser where a pitcher of water and a cup was laid out. Falteringly, she poured it's contents into a cup and began to drink it, letting the cool water wash through her like a cleansing wave.
“Mistress...” She turned to see that her bonded had awoken. He looked tired and drawn, his flesh thinned as if he hadn't been eating.
Poor Aestival... She wasn't sure he had been with her in the nightmare or not, but surely he had tried to help her, throwing his light into the darkness of her illness. She smiled shakily. “I'm back.” she said, meeting his intense gaze. She became aware of being ravenously hungry, of being chilled from the sweat of a broken fever, of limbs out of practice for being used. “I'm back.” She leaned against the dresser as they threatened to give way.
The dark shape of her bonded was by her side in a sinuous instant, a stable support. “I'm glad.” he sounded tired, too. And relieved. What a horrible trial it must have been for him... she thought as he nuzzled her. “You should go back. To bed. Sit. Rest...”
Nonsense she wanted to say, in her giddiness, Nonsense, I am all better, lets go and greet the world!
But she knew better.
“Yes.” she said, letting him guide her back to her bed, “Yes, I suppose I'd better!” she smiled at him as he tucked her in with careful claws.
“I will tell the others you have awakened. Food... water... books... I will bring you anything you require, my mistress...” She could hear he was trying not to purr. Perhaps he was too tired to purr.
“I'd like that.” she said softly, watching as he walked out of the door. As he did, he stopped, and looked back at her, and in his eyes, she saw both love and pain. That was the mark of their bond, the connection they had to each other.
“I love you too...” she whispered, though he was out of earshot, trying not to run on the slippery stone of the halls. Even still, she knew he heard. She knew he knew.
~~~
Her soul might have been strong, and her body might be healthy again, but recovery still took time. Laesara's patience was tested by the endless waiting. Flesh, burned away in fever, had to return. Physical strength and condition, lost in inactivity, had to be regained. Mental and physical fortitude, whittled down by sleep and nightmares, had to be regained. It was a process, but she grew stronger every day.
Aestival never left her side. For the most part he was silent. Laesara didn't think he knew, exactly, what happened to her, and the Orakoir did not ask. But he wants to. she thought, as she looked at him over her meal. It was a light meal – one of the things that had atrophied was her stomach. Fever had weakened it, and where she had once been able to eat anything, now she was more delicate. It, like the rest, would take work to restore. But it would be restored, and one day she would eat well again.
If Aestival ever asked 'where she had gone' (because they both knew she had been gone, for a time), what would she tell him? That she had been in a nightmare? That something had pursued her and she'd had to flee for a while? I don't know where I went. she thought, scrutinizing him quietly, I just know I was there, and that he was left behind. She let her hand fall, wiggling her fingers at him under the table. She knew he should not join her while eating, but, as he obeyed her summons and pushed his huge head under her hand, she knew that others would simply have to deal with it.
~~~
That night, Aestival did ask. Laesara replied with the only thing she knew. “I don't know.” she said, honestly. She didn't know. He didn't know. Jiae didn't know... but she had gone somewhere.
“Not... away.” Aestival said. His bright, gem-like eyes searched her, trying to understand, even though he knew she did not either.
“Not away.” she said, agreeing, “... within. Somehow.”
“Will the books help?” he asked, “Will the books help you to know where?” he flicked his tail at the books. They accompanied her in her recovery, books of magic and medicine and history.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” she said, paging through an index and writing down a few key names. “Maybe these will.” she handed the list to the khehora, “Maybe they won't.”
“Mistress...” he said, folding it with care and tucking it into a message pouch at his forepaw, “Why do you want to know? You are here now, you are better now... Why are you looking for where you were?”
- ”Oh, hey, meathead here's just said more words than he's ever said before. He's got a point, though, Lae. You need to tell him what you're thinking. He's going to worry himself silly, the nutskull...”
The weapon's comment was colorful... but she was right. “Aestival... they told you I was sick. I had a fever, and I got better. Everybody gets sick sometimes. They feel... unwell. Then they get better.” Or they die “It is natural. But I don't think this was natural. I think someone meant me harm, Aestival, and I want to find out if that was the case. That way, I can protect myself from it. That way, if someone tries to hurt me, I can hurt them back...” Do you understand? She thought he might. She saw – and felt – a shadow of unease pass over him. Apparently, you do... she thought. More than she had expected, something that intrigued her.
He nodded. “I'll get you the books, Mistress.” he said, looking at her with that same love in his eyes, that same bonded connection that she had felt when she had finally awoken from her nightmare, “And if someone hurt you, I will tear their throat out.”
He moved his head into her lap and she stroked it with her hands, her dear bonded, loyal and true and powerful. “Yes...” she said soothingly. If I don't get to them first.
