The Search for Soul in Everything

Chapter 16

Astarion sighed in frustration. Another two days had come and gone with no change. She hadn't even stirred. He'd been given another shirt to replace his tattered one, and a cloak to keep him warm while he tended to her. It wasn't much, but he was thankful.

He felt his hand flow through her thick, purple hair. Frustration crept in as another knot stopped his finger from moving further. He gently picked up the strands, pulling them apart as softly as he could. He had been washing her hair nearly everyday, and red still stained the water in the bowl, turning the clear liquid pink. He's changed the bandages in her horn three times, even if all the potions and spells healed it, he wanted to be sure.

Astarion seemed to move slowly the last couple days. His eyes were dull as he looked through whatever his gaze caught. Everything except her. Everyone who witnessed the pair in that wagon thought it was a pity, and couldn't imagine for themselves what he was going through. They looked on, never saying a word. Astarion hated the way they looked at him. He never cried, and he hasn't spoken. He was lost, unsure of what would happen, and the suspense was killing him slowly.

"Gods, darling. Look what they've done to you..." he said quietly to her, hoping she'd hear him. His voice was raspy as the words dripped from his mouth. His hands gently run through her hair again. "I'm... not sure how to help you this time."

He watched her closely, taking in what she looked like. She had been still for so long, he almost didn't catch the small twitch in her eyes brows. They furrowed downward, a knot above her nose tying them together. Her mouth dipped down as if she were dreaming. Astarion watched her, his eyes lighting up for a moment.

Vanora groaned, a pounding headache marching around her skull. She turned her head slowly, hoping to relieve some of the pain. It didn't help. Her body was stiff and sore, moving seemed to make her bones itch.

She opened her eyes, looking at the chest of someone beside her. Their hands had been running through her wet hair, but now remained frozen in the air. She looked up, seeing Astarion's face. He looked memorized, but also awful. The bags under his eyes dug deep into his sockets. There was dirt all over his face, and his hair was a matted mess in his head.

She looked for a moment more. "You look awful." She commented, her voice raspy and hoarse. She almost didn't sound like herself at all.

Astarion was absolutely stunned, he didn't know what to do. He had hoped and prayed that she would wake up, but he'd seemed to accept the fact she never would. He chuckled brokenly at her comment. He wasn't expecting that at all. "You're one to talk." He smiled wide, his voice raspy as well.

Vanora chuckled, looking over at his hands. "Are you going to just hold my hair?"

Astarion laughed, letting his hands brush through her hair again. As he rinsed her hair again, his smile faded for a moment. "I thought you were... I thought you wouldn't wake up."

"Takes more than a little sickness to get rid of me, I'm a pest." Vanora jokes.

Astarion didn't find it funny. He took a deep breath. "Darling, I-" he choked on his words. Vanora waited patiently, wanting to hear him. He sighed.

Astarion just laughed, closing his eyes tight as he did. It rang out of the wagon, in quick, joyous bursts. He looked down, still chuckling for a moment as he tried his best not to cry. Suddenly, his hands left her hair to hold her face. He carefully put his lips on her own, a soft and sweet show of purely affection and relief washed over him.

Vanora's eyes widened for a moment, but she quickly closed them to savor the moment. Every inch of movement he made was strictly careful, caressing her lips as if they'd shatter like clay.

When he pulled away, he only left room for them both to breathe. He looked into her eyes, smiling softly as he took in the fact that she was alive. "You're not a pest..." He said, parting away to caress her hair more.

Vanora hummed, listening to the water in the bowl slosh every so often. She could feel his hands run through her long hair, gently pulling his fingers through to get the rest of the blood out. The lightning in her lips didn't fade for a long time.