Chivalry Isn't Dead | A Clawtie Fanfiction

• Conflicted •

"I'm… home?" Those were the first words that came out of Sweetie's mouth, staring at the grey, cement ceiling, the fluffiness of her pillow and warmness of her blanket pesting her to laze some more.

She sat up on her bed, letting her hind legs hang on the side as she lifted her forepaws in front of her, wrapped in elastic bandages in certain areas. "Was I in a fight?" She tried to remember, a wail suddenly housing in her head that snapped her back, groaning with paws on her temples.

"Sweetie?"

A door was forced open, revealing a brown pup, wearing merely a collar. His fur was frizzy like it was kept ungroomed for a while.

"Are you okay? I heard you shriek for a second."

"I'm fine," Sweetie replied, slowly placing a paw on her mouth. She didn't notice she screamed.

Chase walked on over after closing the door, sitting beside Sweetie. All paws were in the soft mattress when he sided with her, and involuntarily, Sweetie raised her hind legs to sit the same way.

"A bunch of bandits kidnapped you… hurt you…" Chase failed to look at her, even when Sweetie tried to initiate eye contact herself. "I was a fool to let you go. I knew you weren't safe."

Sweetie sighed. "Yes, you should've known. It all could be avoided if you were resolved enough to put your work first before your emotions. Holding me off from going would've been the best."

The brown pup lowered his head, and his already tired eyes grew more exhausted. Sweetie couldn't help the way her sharp tongue spoke, she sometimes wished to cut it off herself.

"Were you worried?"

"So much," Chase answered without hesitation. Enough that Sweetie couldn't even believe her ears. "And I'm so, so tired.

"Tired? Why are you—"

Sweetie squeaked from the weight on her shoulder, sharing each other's warmth. Chase's head laid for rest, and observing him, the terrier found some small cuts and bruises kept untreated all over him, just hiding under his fur.

"You're too reckless, Sweetie." Chase was breathless when he chuckled. "What would you do without me?"

"Chase?" Sweetie called in a caring tone, the increasing weight returning her down on her bed. Immediately, Sweetie tried pushing Chase onto the middle of the comfort den. Upon success, she placed a paw on his forehead, leaving her surprised.

"Wha— you're burning up!" Sweetie was torn between getting mad or anxious, her body moving on its own towards the closed door. She exited, quickly earning calls she ignored, as well as her owner's. What she wanted was a towel from the princess' drawer, and after biting onto one, she brought it to the storage to drop into a pail of water. She squeezed the towel as dry as she could before rushing back, noticing the significant change of Chase's breathing from a few minutes ago. He was in a pursuit for air and moaned in discomfort from the sickness that struck him out of nowhere, squirming around the bed.

Sweetie placed the towel on his forehead. Tears welled up from Chase's eyes. He wasn't crying, it was from the fever. It must have been treating him harshly for as long as he stayed up for Sweetie. It made it seem like it was her fault.

"No, I need to get up," Chase slid the towel off, yet Sweetie gently pushed him down before he could sit, returning the damp cloth on his face. "I have to protect you. I got to—"

"You don't need to do anything, I'll be right here by your side, I promise."

"You'd lie," Chase tried, for even when nature punished him he prioritized Sweetie.