A Battle of Pride and Desire

Chapter Twenty Nine

As Brigette awoke, the sound of people crying and whimpering surrounded her. She didn't dare open her eyes to see what was making the noise. She clenched and unclenched her hand against what she was lying on. A bed. She grabbed a fistful of the sheets and registered she wasn't on the battlefield any longer. She knew that was where she was supposed to be. She sat up before she opened her eyes and hit her head against the headboard. She groaned and rubbed at the sore spot as she slowly greeted the world. Once her vision cleared she realised she was in an infirmary with lots of other wounded warriors. Healers were rushing around and their white light was coming out in bucketfuls as they tried to heal the dozens of injured Magmellans. Brigette looked around as she tried to piece together the events that led up to her passing out. She remembered fighting, remembered the flying fae, Liadh, shooting and stabbing. Taran, she remembered Taran who was so injured she was surprised he could walk. She took a look at her arm and the wound that had once been there was now gone, leaving only a small scrape in its place. Brigette marvelled at the healers' ability and pulled up her shirt to look at her waist. Sure enough the small wound that had been there was gone. Slowly, Brigette lightly rested a finger on her cheek. She hissed and pulled back. It was still sore and she could feel the indentations on her skin but it didn't feel as sore as before. Where was Taran? She scanned the room for a sign of him but a healer blocked her view. She looked up to come face-to-face with a slender male wearing spectacles.

"Hello," she said.

The healer looked at her below his spectacles, "Brigette?"

Brigette nodded as he examined the wound on her arm. He lifted her arm carefully and ran a hand along the scrape there, "Does this hurt?"

Brigette shook her head no and he dropped her hand.

"What's going on?" she asked.

The healer paused for a moment and then said, "Eoin found you and Taran on the battlefield - said you had wiped out everyone within range."

Brigette's eyes widened, "I'm good - not that good. Where is Taran?"

The healer nodded to a bed across the way to a sleeping Taran. His eyelashes shadowed his cheeks and his leg looked fine, it looked like nothing had happened at all. Brigette allowed herself to feel relief as she took in her friend's state. He would be OK. She released a breath and ran a hand over her scalp. Her braid had been reduced to strands of hair defying gravity. She smoothed it to the best of her ability as she watched Taran sleep.

"He is fine," the healer said, getting her attention once more. "Almost like nothing happened. He arrived this way."

Brigette watched the healer's eyes scrunch as he considered her and she didn't balk as he assessed her. She watched him carefully and did the same, eyeing him up. She had been fighting fae all day for fuck sake. She could withstand a healer's stern eye.

"Do you remember anything at all?" he asked her and pulled out a pen.

Brigette watched him scribble something down in his notepad, "I remember trying to heal Taran and blacking out. I recall nothing else."

"How did you heal him?"

His pen scribbled furiously on the notebook and Brigette craned her neck to see what he was writing but couldn't make out the scrawl. She sighed and stayed silent, waiting for him to stop.

When he did she said, "I can sometimes call on healing powers."

When she said it aloud, it sounded stupid. Probably because it was, in fact, absolute ludicrous.

The healer tapped a pen on the notebook and looked her up and down, "But you're not a healer."

A statement, not a question, but Brigette nodded anyway.