Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary; Hearthfire 13, 3E411
Lily fought her way back to consciousness for the second time in a week that was quickly slipping away. Like the last time, she noticed the cold first.
Unlike the last time, she realized, she wasn't wearing any clothes.
Lily stirred, opening one eye a crack and groaning at the hazy light. How long have I been asleep? she wondered. Making another valiant effort to open her eyes, she turned her head to the side she hoped was away from the source of the light, and was rewarded with a jolt of searing pain along her throat. She gasped, reactively reaching for her neck with both hands, and tiny bonfires lit up all along both arms. Bringing a hand to her face, she realized that the flesh of her arms was decorated with a system of intricate spirals and words in the Daedric alphabet, all meticulously applied and all, now, due to her sudden movements, seeping scarlet.
"By the Mother...!" There came a clatter of vials from somewhere near her feet, and every fine hair on the back of Lily's neck stood up as the familiar voice of her least favorite Breton rang out around her.
"You're awake? You're awake! You mustn't move, little one, not a bit! You'll open your wounds again!" The coven's resident vampire, Vicente Valtieri, fussed loudly while gently pressing her arms back to her sides. Lily struggled in response, panicked at the thought of being exposed before the man who'd followed her so closely in recent weeks. His strength prevailed, though, and the little floodgates of agony opening all over her exposed flesh quickly eroded her ability to fight back.
"Don't touch me," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Leave me alone."
"Nonsense," he said, dismissively. "Your scrapes aren't bad, but they're legion. You'll lie right there until they heal." He uncorked one of the bottles he had placed at her feet and daubed a bit of its contents on a clean rag. "I've already cleaned these once today," he continued, his voice softening. "Don't make me do it again, I beg of you."
As the pale-faced man bent to his task, swabbing her bleeding limbs with an antiseptic that both stung and chilled, Lily felt a little of her revulsion melt. By the time he had started on her second arm, she had managed to mentally trudge through her pain-muddled thoughts to find a reason for her extraordinarily blurred vision and dulled senses.
"You - ow - you drugged me," Lily gasped, through a particularly painful moment of his ministrations. Vicente raised an eyebrow, not bothering to conceal the apologetic expression he wore.
"You were unconscious when you arrived, dear one," he responded gently. "But if I hadn't administered some kind of sedative, you would have been awake and delirious with pain through the worst of it."
Lily's back stiffened again at the vampire's familiarity, but she pushed the ire down. "How...long have I been asleep?" she asked, wincing.
Vicente’s eyes were apologetic as he glanced up at her. “Nearly two days and nights, I’m afraid,” he responded. “In any event, I’m surprised you’ve woken already. You lost quite more blood than I think our Speaker intended.”
“Is that so?” Lily bristled, an edge of frightened anger creeping into her voice. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with being surrendered to a bloodsucking monster while unconscious, I’m sure?”
For a moment, Vicente looked as though he were about to snap a sharp answer back at her. Then, very slowly, he lowered his gaze to her naked leg, and resumed patting at her wounds with the antiseptic. When he spoke, his voice was soft, tight, and unlike any tone Lily had heard the vampire use before.
“Our illustrious Speaker dropped you off on the steps of the coven after a rough trip on horseback from his lair. Even if it were just your lacerations to worry about, you would have been in quite a bad way upon your arrival. The trauma incurred by his rather…” A muscle in Vicente’s cheek tightened. “...turbulent treatment of your injured person had plucked you from the clutches of mere danger and placed you near death.”
He straightened, pouring more antiseptic onto a clean cloth and moving around her to begin work on her right leg. His back and neck were uncharacteristically rigid. “I am, I think it is safe to claim, the member of the coven who knows most intimately how much blood a being can lose and still awaken, given enough time.”
He was silent for a while, and then looked back up at Lily with an expression that masked any underlying emotion. “I was also the only one who volunteered to care for you,” he finished, quietly, “when you were in desperate need.”
Stunned into silence by the vampire’s uncharacteristically taciturn response, it was a moment before Lily, in a very small voice, apologized.
This post has been edited by kementari: May 26 2008, 02:44 AM
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I am the sword in darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men.
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