Sorry for the long absence. I'm not dead, just busy and tired. I will hopefully be updating soon, but here, have a drawing of Thorn and Zera above the clouds on their first flight
Acanthir stirred slightly as the big bandit carefully laid him out on the cot, groaning faintly.
It was hard to believe that mere days ago, he’d been so intimidating and arrogant. Ready to kill her.
Watching him tremble on the cot, whimpering like a beaten dog, Zera could no longer find any of the bitterness she’d held towards him just a few days earlier.
She didn’t hesitate to crawl onto the cot next to the shaking man, pulling the thick furs up over both of them, nor to run her fingers through his sweat-damp hair.
The Prince moaned, pressing weakly into the touch.
“M’sorry.” He mumbled, tears streaking his face. “I-I shouldn’t h-have tri-tried to... to...” He let out a broken sob, squeezing his eyes shut. “K-kill you.” He stuttered, breathing heavily. “Pl-please f-forgive me, d-don’t leave me, I-”
“Ssssshhhh.” Zera murmured, wiping his tears with her thumb. “Sssshhhh, it’s alright. I forgive you.”
He whimpered, nuzzling into her touch.
“I’m sorry too.” Zera whispered. “I should have taken you to get help sooner. I shouldn’t have let it get this bad.”
Acanthir shook his head mutely, snuggling closer to her.
Zera wrapped her arm around his shoulder, murmuring softly, hoping to calm him.
The Prince shivered, pressing his face against her shoulder.
“W-why did you save me?” He asked hoarsely, barely above a whisper.
I almost didn’t. Zera thought, sickened by the memory of how close she had come to thrusting a dagger between his ribs.
The memory of him crying out, begging for his mother to help him, while his wounds were cleaned, so scared and delirious he was begging his father to spare him, hit her like a physical blow. It was all too much. She couldn’t stop the tears, try as she might.
Acanthir looked up at her with wide blue eyes, confusion spreading over his handsome features.
“Z-Zera?” He asked quietly, timidly. It made her feel sick.
“It’s okay-” She started, choking on a sob. He looked so scared.
“I-I didn’t mean- I’m sorry- I-”
“Sssshhhh ssssshhhh ssshhh.” Zera murmured shakily. “It’s not your fault.” She assured him, even as Thorn nudged her with his snout.
____________
Acanthir watched as Zera wiped her eyes.
“What did he do to you, Acanthir?” She asked, a pained look in her indigo eyes. “What did your father do to you?”
Acanthir shuddered at the mention. “I-I, he would- I don’t want- please-” He stammered, his the words catching in his throat.
“Acanthir.” Zera said calmly, fresh tears glimmering in her eyes. “It’s alright. You don’t have to talk about it.”
He closed his eyes with a choked sob. “He b-beat me... N-never on the face... H-he couldn’t whip me, th-the scars would have been too hard to explain, b-but he w-would use h-his sceptre s-sometimes.” He cut of with a strangled whimper.
Zera shifted closer to him, stroking his hair.
“Sssssshhhhh, ssssssshhhh.” She soothed, and Acanthir felt Thorn’s hot breath on his face.
“I’ll never let him hurt you again.” She murmured. “I promise.”
Acanthir nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, mumbling his thanks as he began to slip under the pull of his exhaustion.
He fell asleep to Zera stroking his hair, promising him that he was safe.
__________
Zera twisted her neck to look at Thorn, smiling softly as he curled up next to the cot, the tip of his tail flicking lightly.
Acanthir shivered against her, mumbling in his sleep. He was still burning up, but at least he seemed to be getting some rest.
Zera curled up, feeling safe for the first time in days. She closed her eyes, joining the Prince in sleep mere moments later.
“What is your name?” Zera asked the old man, as he deftly brushed his fingers over one of Acanthir’s wounds. The prince shifted, moaning weakly.
“Holtor, my- Zera.” He said, smiling warmly, even as he grabbed a handful of herbs, and tossed them into a pot of boiling water that hung over a fire.
Then, he gently took a wet cloth, and began to gently clean out the gashes on Acanthir’s abdomen.
Acanthir flinched, a soft whimper escaping him.
When he had finished with the abdominal wounds, Holtor moved down to the Prince’s injured calf, clicking his tongue in concern.
Acanthir shuddered, trying to pull his leg away as the older man began to peel the leg of his trousers away from the mess of sickness and blood. Holtor just sighed, and began to clean the oozing puncture wounds.
“No...” Acanthir groaned. “No, no...”
“Ssssshhhh, sssssshhhhh.” Zera whispered, sitting by his side, and, after a split-second’s hesitation, taking his hot, clammy hand in her own.
His fingers twitched, giving hers a weak squeeze. She smiled slightly.
Concern settled over her as she watched Holtor bring a cloth soaked in the herbal mixture forward.
Then, with a slight grimace, Holtor began to scrub the steaming cloth over one of the gashes.
Acanthir arched his back with a scream of agony.
“No!” He shrieked. “Please! I can’t take this! Please-” He cut off with a sob, and Zera carefully held his shoulders down.
“Acanthir.” She said quietly.
“Please.” He begged. “Please, make them stop! I-it hurts!”
“I know.” Zera soothed, easing his head back down when he tried to look at his wounds.
He kicked out, thrashing as hard as he could, wailing in pain.
Holtor sighed, catching one of his flailing wrists, and pinning it against the table, fastening a leather strap around it.
“Nonononono, please!” The Prince cried, as Zera tried to soothe him. “Please! I’ll give you a-anything you want. Anything- please!”
“Sssssssshhhhh. Acanthir, I know it hurts, but he is trying to help.”
“Please.” He whined, his arctic blue eyes locking with hers as his entire body shook with sobs. “Zera.”
“Yes, sssshhh, it’s just me. It’s just me.”
“D-d-don’t let him h-hurt me.” He pleaded, as Holtor moved on to restraining his legs. “Please, I’ll do anything.”
“Sssssshhhh, please lie still. I know, it’s painful, but this is the only way to help you get better.”
Horror dawned in those already terrified eyes.
“No! No!” Acanthir screamed, bucking wildly. “Please! I tried! I did my b-best! Father please! Please I-I’m sorry. I-it w-won’t happen a-again... Please.” He sobbed.
Dread knotted in Zera’s stomach as she understood the implication of the words.
“Your father isn’t here.” She said calmly. “It’s just me. No on is going to punish you.”
“Please, I don’t wanna die.” The prince whimpered, as Holtor finished strapping his left arm down.
“You’re not going to die, I forbid it.” Zera said softly, positioning herself by his head. She cupped his flushed cheeks in her palms.
“Look at me. It will be finished soon.”
Holtor approached with a leather strap. A biting strap.
The prince’s eyes wheeled in terror, and he squirmed against the unyielding restraints.
“Mother!” He wailed, and Zera’s heart broke.
“Hush now, it’s alright. Everything will be okay.”
Gently, the Holtor took Acanthir’s jaw in his hand, opening his mouth, and placing the strap between his teeth.
The Prince squeezed his eyes shut, hiccuping sobs shaking his body.
Hot breath ruffled her hair, and Zera looked up as Thorn poked his head into the tent.
The dragon uttered a soft whine, nudging on of Acanthir’s hands, and sniffing at the restraint on his wrist.
Zera went on stroking the Prince’s hair, even as her own tears released.
_________
Laenyra entered the tent, doing her best to keep the pained expression off her face. Hearing such suffering had cut her deeper than she cared to admit.
The dragon had managed to squeeze himself into the narrow space behind his rider, and he had his chin resting in her lap, even as she held Prince Acanthir’s hand. She was crying, Laenyra realized, and her heart went out to the younger woman.
The Prince was barely conscious by now, yet he still trembled from pain, his lovely blue eyes had a glassy, faraway look in them, and his breath hitched and rattled in his chest.
Holtor began to undo the restraints on the Prince’s wrists and ankles, before set about wrapping his injured leg in bandages.
The dragon-rider gently helped Holtor sit the Prince upright, and held him in place so that his torso could be bandaged.
The Prince moaned, slumping into the girl's arms.
“I will check on him in the morning, Lady Zera.” Holtor said quietly, and the girl nodded, murmuring a word of thanks.
“Kenaro.” Laenyra called, her eyes never leaving the prince.
“Yes, Lady Laenyra?”
“Please take the Prince, and Lady Zera to their tent.”
“Of course, my Lady.” With that, the big man went over, gently lifting the Prince into his arms.
“This way, please, Lady Zera.”
The girl followed silently, and the dragon mirrored her movements silently, slinking out of the tent, and trailing after his rider.
“What is your plan now, Laenyra?” Holtor asked.
“We let him heal, and we hope she agrees to join us. If she does, we train her. She will need to know how to fight.”
“She reminds you of Madia.” It was not a question, but Laenyra nodded.
Zera looked down at the shivering Prince, wincing in sympathy. He was terribly injured, sick, and in the middle of nowhere. And he was a Prince, he had no idea what to do in this kind of situation.
Zera sighed, and lay down next to him. He snuggled against her with a pathetic whine. He was just getting worse, and, to her dismay, so was the weather. She needed to find better shelter for them, and she needed more supplies to treat his wounds.
As reluctant as she was to leave this cave, neither of them were going to survive if they stayed.
Acanthir shuddered weakly, his breath hitching in his throat. Zera grimaced, gently brushing his hair back.
His eyes fluttered open, still-half glazed.
“Ssssshhhh, sssshhh, it’s okay.” Zera cooed, gently touching his forehead. He pressed into her touch, a soft whimper slipping past his cracked lips.
“Come on.” She said softly, after a moment’s debate. “We need to leave.”
“W-what? Why?” Acanthir rasped.
“Because, it’s too cold to stay here, even with Thorn.” Especially with your wounds. Her mind added.
“Come on, it’s okay.”
“Wh-where are we going?”
“Anywhere I can find for us.” Zera told him.
*******
Acanthir shivered, despite the blanket and the cloak. He was sitting on the horse, in front of Zera, who was holding him in place.
He didn’t manage to stifle his groan.
“It’s alright, it’s going to be alright.” Zera said soothingly. “Just hold on. It’s going to be alright.”
Comforted by her words, Acanthir faded back into darkness.
******
It was after nightfall when Zera got the uneasy feeling of being watched. Her instincts were proved correct when she entered the next clearing on the trail.
She realized what was happening just as the ambush came. Zera drew Acanthir’s sword, unwilling to go down without a fight. She cursed to herself, furious for not being more cautious. She hadn’t expected any rogues for another ten miles.
Her heart sank as she looked behind her, and saw the two horses blocking the path.
“Too late to leave now, girl.” A gruff voice said. “You shouldn’t travel alone at night.”
“I’m not alone.” Zera growled.
“Might as well be, the lad with you doesn’t seem like he’s got much fight left in him.”
“I am not alone.” Zera repeated, as the sound of wingbeats filled the air.
The torches flickered, branches thrashed, and Thorn’s roar filled the night air, as he swept down, landing next to Zera with a hiss of fury.
The one she assumed was the leader looked at Thorn with wonder in his eyes, before dismounting his horse, and kneeling. Zera watched in confusion as the rest of the people followed suit.
“Forgive us, my Lady.” The leader said, his head still bowed. “We did not know.”
Zera said nothing, just looked in confusion at the kneeling rogues.
“Did not know that I wasn’t alone, you mean?” She said finally, her tone cold and biting.
“Did not know that you were a dragon-rider.”
“The same thing.”
“No, it’s not, my Lady.” The leader told her, as Zera secured Acanthir in the saddle, and dismounted, standing next to Thorn. “We thought you were a highborn, based on the cloak and the horse.”
Zera scoffed. “I’m sure anyone with half a brain could tell that I am no highborn.”
“But your companion is.”
“Yes.” Zera said coolly.
There was a soft gasp from another rogue.
“Stars above us, that’s Prince Acanthir.”
The leader started to stand, only for Thorn to lunge forward, roaring in fury. The man hurriedly knelt again.
“You are the one they speak of then. The girl who tamed the dragon that Prince Acanthir had hunted.”
“Yes.”
“Why do you have the Prince with you?”
“That’s my concern, not yours, bandit.” Zera snapped.
“Forgive me, my Lady. I did not mean to offend.”
Zera could not stop a laugh at that.
“Everything about this situation has offended me.” She told him, remounting the horse. “Now move aside, or Thorn will do it for you.”
At the words, Thorn bared his teeth, fire flickering in the back of his throat.
“Please, my Lady. Long have we waited for someone like you. Someone to free us from the Tyrant’s reign.”
“I am travelling with the King’s son.”
“But not the King.” The leader said. “Pardon my saying so, but while the Prince is arrogant and cruel, he’s nothing compared to his father.”
Slumped in the saddle before her, Acanthir groaned quietly.
“I’m not a tool for you to use. Neither is Thorn. Move. Now.”
“He needs help.” She could tell by the tone that these words were spoken in a last, desperate play to get her attention.
“And I’ll find it for him.” She said, nodding to Thorn.
“We have healers.”
“And you want to be rid of him and his father. I may be young, but I’m not naive, nor am I stupid enough to fall for that. You’d kill him the minute I turned my head.”
“That is not our way, despite what this fool’s rashness may have you believe.” A new voice said. Zera watched as a woman stepped into the clearing. She was older than Zera by at least twenty years, and had an air of authority about her.
The man who had been speaking lowered his eyes.
“No harm will come to either of you.”
“Forgive me, but I don’t believe you.” Zera hissed.
“You have my word, child.”
Zera hesitated, looking into the woman’s kind brown eyes.
Acanthir shivered, whimpering softly.
Zera hesitated, then nodded once.
“Please, my Lady.” The woman said, a soft smile gracing her face. “Our camp is this way.”
“If you’re lying...” Zera said, unwilling to trust the older woman just yet.
“I can imagine what will happen.” The woman said. “And I’m not eager to be devoured by a dragon.”
---
Upon arriving back to the camp, Zera had calmed down somewhat. A mountain of a man approached, and bowed his head to Zera.
“With your permission, my Lady, I will carry him to the healers now.”
“I’m not letting him out of my sight.” Zera said, but she nodded anyway.
The healer was an elderly man, with deft fingers and a warm smile.
“my Lady.” He greeted. “It is my honor to meet a dragon-rider.”
As he said it, the other man laid Acanthir down on a wooden table.
As soon as the tunic was removed, the old man grimaced.
“It seems I have my work cut out for me. May I ask for your assistance, my Lady?”
“Yes, of course. And my name is Zera. Not ‘Lady.”
“As you wish, Lady Zera.”
“It’s just Zera.”
The old man smiled, and nodded, before turning his attention to the wounds on Acanthir’s abdomen.
I have no self control so here’s chapter 4 to “A Trade”
I honestly might post part 5 tonight, not sure-
Have patience, the mans will go brr even more later :)
—
Tags: @shydragonrider
—
An informant had brought them new intel, that the Operator’s activity was restarting. Medic had felt an odd sense of dread, considering the possibility of going back out into the field.
Villain had finally managed to settle, nine months later. His wounds showed signs of obvious healing, and while his health was still a struggle, adjusting to normal life proving the hardest challenge, he was improving bit by bit.
He’d truly begun to trust the heroes as well, for the first time able to interact with them outside of the battlefield. He’d seemed to have found his place, and become content with life with them.
The disruption to the comfortable, peaceful lives the heroes had held disturbed Medic. How Villain would react to interacting with Superhero- or even before that, having the heroes gone for extended amounts of time- was a mystery that he wished he wouldn’t have to solve.
But as with any problem, it did not go away.
The first warning sign was the immense dread he felt waking up that day. As if he was convinced something bad had happened. Ignoring it, he began his rounds, checking the medbay before checking the doors down the hall. Each belonged to a hero- or Villain. Most were still asleep, leaving him ample time to start his day peacefully.
He had planned to take inventory of the medbay that calm morning, but an alert on the cameras drew his attention the minute he logged into the system.
Surprisingly, it was not in the main cameras, but rather, a subcategory. His heart dropped when he read the label. It was the code for target locations, spaces indicated to have enough energy detected to be the location of the Operator. Of Supervillain.
Thick, thick foliage covered every inch of the ground, but from among the leaves, there was a huge cloud of smoke.
He knew he had made a mistake, but it was too late to escape the consequences.
Acanthir squirmed weakly, not quite delirious, but not lucid either.
“Lie still.” The girl said calmly.
Acanthir shivered. “I-it hurts.”
“I know.”
He whimpered, unable to escape the pain, but too weak to do anything but lay against the dragon's flank.
She started to withdraw, but he caught her wrist in a weak grip.
The girl put her hand in his forehead, and Acanthir pressed into the touch slightly, desperate for any comfort.
"Please, st-stay with m-me." He begged, too out of it to care about his pride.
"It’s alright." She said softly.
********
Zera felt the blazing heat of Acanthir's fever, and inwardly winced.
Without thinking, she gently brushed his damp hair back, murmuring reassurances.
“Mnhhhhh.” The prince groaned, nuzzling into her hand.
“Sssshhhhh.”
“I-I don’t know your n-name.” The Prince moaned.
There was a long pause.
"Zera." She said quietly.
“Zera.” He repeated weakly. “St-stay with me, p-please.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Zera told him quietly. “Just relax.”
“I-I...” He whimpered. Thorn twisted his neck to look at the prince, and Zera gently stroked his snout.
Acanthir shuddered violently, his half-lidded eyes meeting Zera’s. He moaned weakly.
It didn’t take long for him to sink into sleep, albeit a restless one.
Zera sighed, noticing the slight lightening of the sky.
Thorn lowered his head, resting it in her lap. Zera laughed slightly. The dragon’s head was bigger than her torso, yet it brought her comfort, to have him so close to her.
Zera gently stroked the smooth scales, and the dragon made a noise that was almost a purr.
They stayed like that, watching the sunrise, and for a long time after.
*****
Acanthir blearily opened his eyes, feeling only marginally better. He tried to sit up, but his arms were too weak to support him.
The dragon had moved, and was sitting at the entrance of the cave, eating something.
Zera was sitting next to her dragon, who seemed to be sharing his catch with her.
“What do you call him?” Acanthir croaked out in a gravelly voice.
Zera turned to look at him. “Thorn.” She replied.
“It suits him.” Acanthir rasped.
She knelt next to him, wordlessly offering him a piece of still steaming meat.
His stomach churned, and he shook his head weakly.
Concern flashed through her purplish-blue eyes, and she sighed.
“You need to eat something.”
“I can’t...”
“Alright.” She said calmly. “We’ll try again later.”
She looked out at the snowy field.
“They’ll be looking for you.”
“I doubt it... They must think I’m dead.” Acanthir groaned. “Surviving a dragon attack is almost unheard of.”
“I guess so.” Zera said quietly. “But he wasn’t trying to kill you. Just to protect me.”
“I know.” Acanthir told her. “If he’d wanted to kill me that night. I wouldn’t be here.”
Warnings: Fever, injury, emotional duress, harsh caretaker, environmental whump, animal death (Thorn’s prey), mentions of abandonment, very stupid decision made by whumpee.
(Minor thing, because this is fantasy and we have dragons so realism isn’t the biggest goal, but cauterization isn’t used for infection. Cauterized wounds are actually more likely to get infected than non-cauterized ones. It’s used to stop bleeding. Just had to mention because my inner writer was saying “if it were me I’d want to know”)
Warnings: Fever, injury, emotional duress, harsh caretaker, environmental whump, animal death (Thorn’s prey), mentions of abandonment, very stupid decision made by whumpee.
Zera had been alone most of her life. She knew how to survive the harshest of winters, knew how to trap, live off her surroundings.
The unconscious man behind her wouldn’t last three days, even if he wasn’t injured. Zera shot Acanthir a disdainful look, chewing on the tree bark she’d foraged earlier that morning.
She was used to this kind of life, but never trying to care for someone else as well as herself.
In fact, this was the main reason she kept to herself, never banding together with anyone else.
She didn’t need anyone relying on her.
Zera looked over as Acanthir began to stir.
About time. She thought irritably. The past four days had been even harder on her. She’d not slept well, had to constantly monitor the delirious prince, changing his bandages and coaxing him to drink.
She remained where she was, watching as Acanthir’s pale blue eyes fluttered open, confusion mingling with the pain on his face as he took in his surroundings.
Zera said nothing as the prince lifted a hand to the bandages on his torso. Then those blue eyes landed on her.
“Good morning, your highness.” Zera sneered. Now that he was lucid, she could no longer keep her resentment in check. After all, he had tried to kill her.
Just because she couldn’t abandon him the way they’d abandoned her didn’t mean she forgave him, or liked him. Or cared at all about him, actually.
Acanthir paled, and Zera felt a small, vicious rush of satisfaction as the Prince struggled to prop himself up on his elbows.
“I-I... You-” He stammered.
“Don’t bother. There’s nothing to say.” Zera snapped, before he could finish whatever he was so struggling to spit out.
She stood up, and the prince tried to scramble backwards, only for his back to press against the walls of the cave.
The sound of wing-beats reached her ears, and Zera looked towards the mouth of the cave as Thorn entered, a dead mountain goat hanging from his jaws.
He dropped his catch on the floor, and stalked towards Acanthir, baring his bloody teeth in a snarl.
The prince made a blubbering noise, and cowered back against the cave wall.
********
Acanthir shivered in terror as the dragon’s hot breath spilled over his face, smelling of smoke and blood.
He held up a shaking arm in a pitiful effort to protect himself.
The dragon snarled, and he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut as tears dripped down his face.
The dragon growled again, but did not attack.
After a moment, Acanthir dared to open his eyes.
The dragon had turned away from him, and was nudging the dead goat towards the girl, like a cat bringing it’s owner a mouse.
“Thank you.” She said quietly, and the dragon made a chirping noise, before heading towards the mouth of the cave, where he lay down.
Acanthir looked up at the girl, into those unfriendly, nearly violet eyes.
He tried to look stern, after all, he was a Prince, and she was a nobody.
“Let me go.” He told her, not quite managing to keep his voice from shaking.
The girl barked an incredulous laugh.
“I guess a ‘thank you’ was too high of an expectation.” She huffed. “I’m not keeping you prisoner. Your horse is outside, your highness.” She sneered. “If you want to leave, then leave. I never wanted anything to do with you anyway.”
Acanthir struggled to stand up, but no matter how hard he tried, his legs didn’t have the strength to support him.
Before long, he was too exhausted to do anything but slump down to the cave floor with a defeated whimper.
“No?” The girl asked, looking rather disappointed. “Too bad. I would have preferred to be done with you as soon as possible.”
Acanthir couldn’t think of a response to that.
She crouched down in front of him, and held something out.
Acanthir’s own hand shuddered as he uncertainly took the tree bark she was offering.
He looked at it in confusion, then back at her, hoping to gauge her reaction on what she was supposed to do with it.
She rolled her eyes.
“Eat it.”
“What?”
“The tree bark. You eat it. Not up to your royal standards, but you’d better get used to it.”
Reluctantly, Acanthir bit off the corner of the tree bark, choking on a gag. The girl said nothing, but he could feel her disgust as she watched him struggle.
After he eventually managed to finish the bark, he curled up on the cold rock floor, too exhausted to even crawl back to the blanket.
The girl eyed him for a moment, then tossed him his cloak, and a plain tunic that she dug out of a saddle bag.
He struggled to sit up, but eventually, he managed to pull the tunic on, and wrap the cloak around himself, huddling under it as he shivered.
********
In the end, Thorn had simply used his fire to cook the goat he had brought back for her, and Zera didn’t think she’d ever seen this much meat in all twenty years of her life.
After eating in silence for several minutes, she reluctantly went and woke the prince. He startled at her touch, his blue eyes flying open, full of fear.
Zera said nothing, just dragged him to his feet, and held him upright as he stumbled alongside her.
She finally sat him down near the fire, gestured to the still warm meat, and then walked outside, watching the darkening sky.
The temperature was still dropping, and Zera knew that Acanthir especially was at risk of freezing, due to his wounds and the blood he had lost.
*******
“You’re going to freeze over there.” The girl called.
“I’m fine.” How Acanthir managed to keep his teeth from chattering was a mystery.
“Alright, fine. Suit yourself.” The girl replied, crawling under the dragon’s wing.
He wasn’t willing to accept that he needed the help of this ill-tempered, disrespectful peasant, or that wretched dragon.
So he curled up under his cloak, and closed his eyes.
*********
It was hours later that Zera was awoken by a distressed sob.
Acanthir was huddled by the fire, shivering violently.
Zera got up with a sigh, walking over to him.
Acanthir looked up at her with scared, fever-bright eyes, desperation written on his handsome features. “Please.” He moaned. “I-I need h-help.”
Zera frowned.
“I’m sorry.” The prince whined, as she crouched beside him. The helpless desperation in his eyes wasn’t as satisfying as she thought it would have been.
“Pl-please help m-me. I’m s-sorry.”
Zera said nothing, just pulled the Prince’s arm across her shoulders, and dragged him over to Thorn’s side.
It was clear that his foolish decision had made his condition worse. He was even more sick now. Borderline delirious again.
He whimpered, curling up against Thorn’s side, desperately seeking warmth.
“D-don’t leave me. Plea-please...” He whimpered, his teeth chattering.
“I’m not leaving.” Zera said, keeping her voice flat.
The Prince sniffled, and sank back into a fitful sleep.
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