Juliette Coulombe (clearyourmind) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-10-26 19:51:00 |
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They were kept in the same room. Juliette had yet to woken up and Audrey had been in and out. This time she was sitting upright with the help of pillows, quiet whimpering as she didn’t want to attract the attention of either doctors. Audrey’s eyes were focused on her bandaged arm, every fiber of her being attempting to try and move it—to just get it to twitch. But all her efforts amounted to nothing. Throwing her head back, she took a deep breath. That was what Juliette woke to -- the sound of someone breathing -- and for a moment, she couldn’t understand where she was or why… There had been a fight. A building, some bardic apprentices, a very large plant. Alys. Then the malboros, and the attempt to climb to the roof, and the elemental, and something cold… things got fuzzy after that; she couldn’t recall exactly what had happened, and she had no idea how she’d gotten to wherever she was, but she was prone under a blanket with a dull, telltale ache in her leg, so someone must have gotten her to a clinic. But -- She sat up so quickly that her head spun (in retrospect, she realized she felt so drained as to be lightheaded), but she couldn’t quell the panic until she saw her sister, pale and bandaged but alive, sitting on the next bed over. (It seemed, no matter how much she had told herself over the months that she did not care what happened to Alys, she had been lying to herself all along.) Now, if only she could manage words. She realized that she didn’t have any idea whatsoever what to say -- so the first thing that came out of her mouth was inane: “Are… you all right?” And never mind that the answer for both of them seemed to be no. The sound of her sister’s voice had startled her, but seeing her speak and move had been such a relief the initial fright wore off. While she couldn’t reach her arm for her, the blonde simply forced a smile. She said nothing in reply. They both knew the answer and Audrey didn’t want to lie. “We’re in Cormac’s clinic. Darius took care of your wounds. You should be okay,” she nodded along. “I haven’t informed the Countess yet.” “You brought me here.” It wasn’t a question -- she could tell that this was what must have happened. She had other questions, certainly, but her recollection of the evening’s events was still fuzzy enough that she didn’t want to ask them until she could fully comprehend what she thought she had seen. “I… didn’t think you would want to help me.” They hadn’t spoken in so long, and hadn’t Alys all but admitted that Juliette’s presence was a hindrance to whatever her plans were? It all suddenly seemed so stupid, even if the younger girl still didn’t have a grasp on what had happened. “I’m sorry.” Those seemed the safest words for now, while she puzzled through the rest. “You were hurt because of me. I didn’t mean for you to be hurt -- I thought you would just go, and --” And she would have wound up dead in an alley, Juliette realized, if that had actually happened. The thought gave her chills. “And let you die?” her words weren’t cushioned as she looked over to the girl. “I didn’t think it was as bad as it wound up being!” the protest seemed weak to her ears. She supposed, in the heat of the moment, with anger pumping through her, she’d assumed Alys would just get away, and then she would do the same, once the building was empty, but… “I don’t know. I assumed you wouldn’t… care too much whether I was fighting on my own.” Nothing was coming out right, but what did she say in a situation like this one? “I’m sorry you were hurt,” she said again. “I didn’t want that at all.” “Why are you so insistent that I don’t care about you?” her brows knitted down in minor confusion as she looked over at her. “Like I understand what might’ve given you that impression but that’s not true at all.” Audrey looked away from her and down to her own limp arm. “I don’t think my arm will ever work again. Not without a machinist’s help,” there was a pause between her words. “You wanted me to be truthful, right? Well,” she looked over at her sister, “I would give my arm again and again if it meant you could live.” She was silent for a while before she chuckled. “It’s fitting in a way. My brother gave his arm for me so I could live. Granted, he died from it. I suppose I’m happy enough I got to live so I could watch you grow up.” “I don’t understand.” The words were plaintive and very young. “First you say you couldn’t be bothered to help me until the inheritance was on the line and now -- what do you mean, your arm won’t work?” The horror as that thought sank in -- that her sister had been permanently damaged helping her when she was in a temper -- completely derailed her previous thought. “No, no, there has to be something a mage can do, you just have to see a good mage, surely?” But it was more question than statement. “I don’t understand you at all.” And Juliette was aware that she was fighting back tears, but it was a fight she was likely to lose because she couldn’t seem to concentrate on any one thing for too long. “Are you still on that?” she tried not to roll her eyes. “It’s simple. The nerves on my arm were damaged and I can’t move it, really.” Looking over at her she raised a brow, “Try not to say that so loud as to the person who saved our lives doesn’t hear that, yeah?” Surely Darius wouldn’t appreciate her sister’s comments. “Why are you crying? Stop that.” “Because you’re hurt.” It seemed the most obvious answer in the world -- that Alys was so seemingly calm about it did nothing to lessen Juliette’s distress. “I’ve been trying not to worry about you all this time and -- and I was sure you didn’t care what happened to me at all -- but you saved me and now your arm…” She stopped, sniffled, mumbled, “I’m sorry, I’m trying not to cry.” And finally, the right thing to say, or one of them, came to her: “Thank you.” Audrey was quiet, shifting her gaze to study her sister for a minute. Sitting up, she slid her legs down so her feet touched the ground and merely switched from her bedside to Juliette’s bedside. “Hey,” she cooed, trying to calm her with a shh. Her left hand reached to stroke her hair, pushing some strands behind her ear. “It’s alright, yeah?” “It’s not,” Juliette disagreed, but she couldn’t exactly voice why she felt that way, either. And she had questions she wasn’t daring ask. But after a moment, she did reach out, somewhat awkwardly, for something like a hug, because she was completely out of her depth regarding what ought to happen, but at least that was a start in saying, maybe I’m considering not being angry anymore. It just seemed so stupid now. The blonde didn’t hesitate to envelop her younger sister into a tight hug. “It’s okay,” she repeated, hoping that if maybe she said it enough times Juliette would cease to be upset. It wasn’t but… if Alys was so insistent on it, Juliette thought, perhaps at least she could try to make it be. Somehow. She couldn’t fathom how just now, but she supposed she would just have to work it out. She attempted to stop sniffling, though her success was questionable. At least she could hug back - that was easy enough -- although she had to give her sister’s still arm a worried glance. “I don’t want to hurt you. More than -- I mean.” More than she already had, but that was something for her to live with. “Do you think,” she asked, attempting to keep as calm as possible, as though she weren’t still on the verge of more tears, “they will let us -- you -- go soon?” Pulling away, Audrey smiled as she she nodded at the younger girl. “I’m sure Darius wants us out of here soon,” her hand had gone again at brushing through her hair. Shifting on her seat, she slowly laid back until she felt the pillow behind her. “It’s late, you should go back to bed. I’ll be right here.” The bed was really too narrow for two, but it didn’t occur to Juliette to complain. At the suggestion, she obeyed, lying back as well, settling on her side. “You should rest, too.” And if she spent most of the rest of their sojourn in the clinic worrying instead of sleeping… well. That was a harbinger of sorts for the days to come, she supposed. Even with that, things were a great deal better in certain ways than they had been for a long time. |