The bonds that bind us together
Chapter 1
Jorgo's POV Jorgo sighed as the healers checked him over after having him undress. He winced as one started tending to a dark bruise on his arm. "Easy" the healer said gently, feeling the muscle tighten. "My apologies." He said, looking away. The healer gentled a bit at that. "You're blaming yourself, aren't you. That's why you waited till Mislaf dragged you here." Gently. Jorgo looked up surprised. "You could tell?" Unsure how to feel about her being able to read him. "Most new leaders when thrust into war feel the brunt of their responsibility more than the older leaders who know their men's capabilities do." She replied gently. Jorgo nodded. "My father left me far too soon. I... was not prepared to lead." Softly, looking away as Mislaf came in. "You are not your father though." Mislaf said gently. "Just like I'm not my father. Just lead the way you feel is best." He suggested. Jorgo looked down. "But, what if I fail. I'd never be able to face my father when I die." Mislaf blinked, and realized something. "You've not given yourself time to mourn, have you?" He asked gently. Jorgo looked up surprised. "Everytime I've thought about it, the men have been there." Softly as he pulled his shirt back on after the healer handed it back, eyes downcast. "Then do so now, when there's not many witnesses. I promise, no one here will tell." Jorgo blinked at that, then allowed the tears to fall. Tears that he'd been forcing back since he'd heard of his fathers death, a few sobs escaping every now and then. He felt the healer rub his back reassuring and Mislaf put his hand on his shoulder comfortingly until he'd let it all out. When he was done he got up and washed his face, feeling more at peace than he had in a while, nodding at Mislaf as he left. Mislaf's POV Mislaf sighed as he let go of Jorgo's arm and collar and gently pushed him into the med tent. "Sorry, this is for your own good." He said gently. He heard the younger man grumble but relent and waited outside, knowing he probably wanted his privacy. He heard them talking, but could only hear snippets of their conversation. After a few minutes he heard something about new leaders and went in to check on how things were doing and heard Jorgo say. "My father left me far too soon. I was not prepared to lead." He heard as he went in. He looked the smaller man over, wincing at the bruises he had on him that were clearly from horses hooves and Mislaf saw him look away. "You are not your father though." He said gently. "Just like I am not my father. Just lead the way you feel is best." Mislaf watched Jorgo's face to see how he'd take his advice.
He noticed Jorgo's eyes looked down at that. "But what if I fail? I'd never be able to face my father when I die." Mislaf watched and took note that he was trying hard to keep his emotions in check.
Mislaf blinked as he realized what it was that was bothering him. "You've not given yourself time to mourn, have you?" he asked gently.
He saw the surprised look that crossed Jorgo's face. "Every time I've thought about it, the men have been there." Softly as he pulled his shirt back on after the healer handed it back, eyes downcast.
Mislaf sighed. "Then do so now, where there's not many witnesses.I promise, no one will tell." and noticed that Jorgo blinked.
He smiled sadly as the smaller man started to cry. Mislaf couldn't imagine the pain Jorgo must be in to cry this much and he gently put a hand on Jorgo's shoulder as the healer rubbed his back comforting him. He watched as Jorgo stood and washed his face of the tears when he was done and looked at peace, sending him a quick nod as he left.
