Weight of the World

Chapter Fifty-Four

—The Crooked Forest—

He dreamt of her, of the little birds she would conjure with her magic, making them flit and dive through the air to make him and Hadrius laugh. He dreamt of her holding him during the lightning storms when they were both small, the way she would run her fingers through his hair as she hummed a quiet tune to make him forget about the tempest raging outside. He dreamt of her laugh, of her smile, of her eagerness to do anything to make those around her happy. He dreamt of her dreamer flowers, her terrible cooking, her funny dances. Too long had it been since he had even allowed himself the heartache of conjuring her memory, but now, it came back in full force, crashing over him like the tide, and he was helpless against its pull. How he wanted to drown in those memories, the only piece of his sister that he had left.

*************

When he woke, tears were spilling from his eyes, a lump so tight in the back of his throat for a moment he thought he couldn't breathe. But then, for just a split second, he felt her. She pressed a kiss to his temple and whispered in his ear.

Everything will be alright.

The sound of footsteps alerted him to someone else's presence and the phantom of his sister disappeared like a hazy dream as he raised his hand to wipe away his tears. Rost swallowed the lump in his throat just as someone stepped into the partitioned section of the tent. Lady Freya. A silver tray balanced in her hands, she didn't realize he had woken yet, and so Rost took the moment to observe her.

She was concentrating on the task at hand, moving the tray to the table nearby, sliding it on easily. She let out a soft breath, muttering something to herself as she looked around, apparently having lost something. Quickly, she located what she wanted with a quiet 'A-ha!'. A small bowl into which she spooned something from one of the dishes on the silver tray. When she had finished, she bent down and placed it upon the floor. She made a soft clicking noise with her tongue, and soon enough, in trotted Kitsune, looking quite pleased as he eagerly dove into the dish. Freya turned, a gentle smile on her face that was quickly replaced with surprise when she finally realized he was awake.

"Well now!" she laughed, hurrying to sit at his bedside. "Someone finally decided to wake up!"

Rost watched her curiously as her hand hovered over his forehead, likely taking a reading of his temperature. "What happened?"

"Oh, that's not very nice," she teased. "You should always remember when you pass out and expel your stomach's contents on a girl."

"I..." Oh Creator preserve him, what was he even supposed to say to that? "I apologize."

She giggled. "I should hope so. Though to be fair, it wasn't really a lot of vomit. And it really only ruined my shoes, but still...it was rather gross."

Rost grimaced. "I remember you...coming into the tent and...removing the knife but..."

"Yes. Tyen'enyal was so nice as to poison the blade. Removing said poison has been...extremely difficult. In the end, I couldn't get all of it. I'm a skilled healer, but not that good. Though I've done what I can, you'll likely feel pain in your shoulder from time to time. I think he even hit a nerve, trying to inflict maximum pain most like. Still, you'll recover, and the pain should lessen over time."

"How long was I out?"

"Two weeks."

Rost nearly choked on his own spit. "What? But...I...How could...?"