╼ ༺ :|| World muted and vision distorting, Beatrix hadn't even felt contact with the ground beneath her. She knew there was a rush, a panic ensuing, but despite all her best efforts merely gasping for breath, she'd soon black out. A sliver of fear surface as Death's hand reached down, and yet not wishing it to end this way. Not when there were others that needed her. Others she held dear.
Blurred, one such dear was there above her. Beatrix fought for clarity in holding onto that anchor Dirk had provided since before that first realization she loved him. Unable and helpless, her single maroon eye fell close. Perhaps it had been the comfort returning that she should see him one last time, or relaxed ease she'd developed around someone she trusted to fight and endure. And...protect her if it ever need be.
And at this moment, she did...
Whatever transpired after was left unto fate as her consciousness faded.
While the queen had been dragged another route away from the scene, Steiner had lifted Beatrix's body while others of the Alexandrian army stayed close for an attempted, congregated mass healing as he made headway towards the castle infirmary.
Chaotic as it was, the Pluto Knights were busying themselves with the frantic crowd whilst the remaining soldiers scoured the area for the gunman. All activities cancelled or indefinitely put on hold. Replacing all joy, there fell a sorrowful hush across Alexandria.
And back within the castle, once Beatrix had been placed down on the operating table, a blood-soaked Steiner was quickly shooed from the room as more medical staff entered in an all out rescue effort removing the bullet and closing the wound while they prayed their general was just as much a fighter to overcome yet another odd. .........................................................
It wouldn't until some miracle after an eternity of a waiting game that Beatrix would eventually stir, slowly returning from a dreamless void as her eyes drunkenly flutter into making sense of where she was and what had occurred.
The room that met her return was not the one she called her own.
It was within the castle, surely - the stonework was unmistakable, as was the material and style of the furnishings. Still, there was nothing personal to otherwise mark the space.
Nothing, save for the person seated nearby, posture rigid as she regarded the papers in her hands.
Then, Beatrix moved.
The woman in the chair looked up immediately.
"Don't try to get up," she commanded. Even now, she held the poise of authority, a calm precision that demanded focus. There was something else around the edges, though - something ragged. Something worn.
"The medics spent a lot of time patching you up. They'll be heartbroken if you rend their work."
