Scumbase

War Dreams, Chapter 6

Siarah GASPED and sat up. She looked around as she reaches up to test her neck, her breath in ragged bursts. Slowly she starts to understand that she is back in the cavern. She tears back the blanket and dashes for the door, her hands over her mouth. Twisting out of the doorway, she drops to her knees and crawls to the longer grasses. Vomiting repeatedly, the woman fights back a swell of panic over her inability to breathe through the bile spewing out.  

A bird lands besides her, eying her for a minute. It was one of the smaller ravens, probably trying to earn honor by watching Siarah, and finally saw a chance for that. It leaps into the air, taking flight into the woods. It’s noisy cawing announcing its urgency to its brethren, the sound retreating as it plunges into the dark foliage. 

Soon, the Raven King emerges, its mighty wings making short work of the distance, the flap of the wings followed by his court, for all the birds were of a curious nature. They were as fascinated by the little girl as their king, and even more entranced by the kings reaction to her. The king cuts low to the ground as he nears Siarah's home, changing to human, and then adjusting his body down to Siarah's size as his feet land in the grass. He scoops up water from the rain bowl, and brings it to the little lass. 

"Siarah, what is the matter?" Gregeori takes advantage of the situation to touch the girl for the first time, helping to rinse her mouth, and then lifting her into his arms to carry her back into her home. As he nears the bed, Siarah starts to flail, fighting him, refusing to go near the bed. He looks at her in confusion, and backs away to the doorway, where he presses his back against the wall and slides down until he is sitting, and she is upon his lap. She is crying and burying her head into his neck. Gregeori pats at her awkwardly, and stares at the orb. This was not how he ever dreamed their first touch or hug would be like. His fingers tangle in her hair, and he nuzzles into her, unsure of how to comfort her.

Several times, when she started to calm down, something would set her off, and they would be back outside, her throwing up and him rinsing her off. Finally, he gave up hauling her inside, and just held her outside. The ravens around the couple stare quietly, with one or two slipping off to share the news to the others. Soon, the wall of cliff where Siarah’s home was nestled was covered in ravens of all sizes. With a single look, Gregeori motioned to the ravens to find food, to find things to ease Siarah’s pain. Many took off with a cawing to accomplish the tasks. Several taking buckets – those with the king’s blood, those who could shift. They would see to a warm bath for the girl.

When Siarah can no longer stand, and there is nothing in her stomach to leave, Gregeori picks her up, brushing back her hair to wipe her lips and offer more water. That is when the bruises around her neck were exposed to him and his court. Dark bruises the size of a warrior’s hand mar the pale skin around her neck. Seeing that, he roars - or would roar, the roar quelled inside of him instead of where he would scare Siarah. The court of birds behind him held no such respect, and cawed, flapping their wings in dismay and taking flight in short circles of agitation.

He lifts her to standing and starts to inspect her despite her tired and feeble attempts to push him away. The torn nails were discovered, and more bruising on her arms and legs, to his confusion. "What happened, Siarah? When did you do this?" He held up the hands, his eyes looking into hers.

She tugs at her hand, trying to hide them as she does her neck and the exposed body. She looks away, blatantly lying to her friend. "I did this gardening the other day." She reaches for the torn dress, too weak to put it on, and rests it over her breasts, feeling ashamed.

Gregeori, knowing her patterns, wanted to shake her and scream "LIAR" but instead he points out quietly, "It rained for two days straight, and then the battle before your doorstep happened. Your hands would have healed. Siarah, I am here to help, but you need to tell me the truth"

  

Siarah does not believe the truth, so she stares off into the distance. The birds who were gone when this happened were starting to trickle in, setting their gifts and supplies off to the side as they sense the agitation in their king. Gregeori crosses his hands, standing behind her, waiting. His anger at the harm done to her scares everyone in the area, including him. Better to sit back, better to give him time to cool, and Siarah time to gather her thoughts.