My Wee Mate

28 - Mo Cuishle

Ailsa

     I feel a ripple in the air when I wake up, and my body aches in a new way. I push the covers away with great effort, flexing my muscles and mentally checking over myself, desperately trying to find the issue.

     Just as I'm about to lift my nightgown and inspect my chest, the door flies open as my maid comes bustling in, drawing the curtains and coming to my aid without having to say a word.

     Slipping from my bed and allowing Gentry to dress me for the day, I can't help stopping to massage my collar bones as the feeling seems to grow and spread.

      It's uncomfortable. Nagging. It's becoming something I cannot simply ignore.

     It feels like something is sitting on my chest. Constricting and pushing until there's no room for air to enter.

     Gentry fluffs the bottom of my gown, sitting me at my vanity as she begins arranging my unruly hair with a comb.

     "What's wrong? Are you having an attack, lass?" She wonders, words colored in concern.

      I close my eyes, gripping the table until my fingers hurt, trying to concentrate on this new sensation.

     "I'm not..." I gasp, closing my eyes tighter. "Sure." I finish, filling my lungs with a long drag.

     I can breathe, it just hurts.

     My nose twitches and my eyes fly open when an unforgettable smell wafts through my nostrils. My smelling salts, pungent and determined to fix me. Gentry holds the vile beneath my nose, cradling my head with her other hand as she lets me inhale.

      "Alright, that's enough." I say, trying to pull away as my head begins to spin. "I'm fine, Gentry, I promise."

     The lie makes my mouth dry, but at least the horrendous salts are dragged away as quickly as they appeared.

     I put a hand to my temple as the feelings continue to swirl and swarm like a hive of bees determined to attack. What is going on?

     When gentry is finished detangling my messy, blonde locks, I pull away, not meeting her eyes.

     Gentry nears my bed, pulling on the sheets and furs covering it as she tidies and folds, humming a little tune. I put my hand on her elbow, a silent plea for her to stop.

     "I'm not having an attack, but I have to admit that I am not feeling well this morning. Would it be alright if I rested today?" I used the weakest most vulnerable voice that I can muster, feeling pathetic.

     I realize I am the lowest form of life there is as sympathy colors my greatest friend's warm, kind eyes.

     "You are actually volunteering to rest? Do my ears deceive me? Has the world ended?" Gentry rants with merch, her shoulder shaking as she laughs. "I can hardly believe what I'm hearing, lass. I'm shocked."

     Not even the slightest bit suspicious, she pulls the bed covers back and gestures to it with one of her large, rough hands.

     I crawl forward slowly, pathetically, playing it up. I must fulfill my role the best I can, even as guilt eats my insides.

     But something in me says I have to do this. I can't help the crawling gut reaction to this shift in my body.

     That something in me tells me that Fraser is in danger. If I can't get to him as soon as possible, I'm unsure what I'll do.

     "Alright now, lass, lay down. Allow your body time to rest and gain some energy." I snuggle under the blanket, nodding weakly and knowing how ridiculous I must look. I wouldn't even believe me.