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ARAMINTA'S headache did not fade and neither did her inability to hear anything except beats, as if she were pressed against someone's chest listening to their heart pump. She felt blind, which was entirely incorrect, but she relied so much on hearing something before it had even appeared, she may as well have been in the dark without it.
The Lurmen village was small, made up of upturned, giant treepods which they had hollowed out and turned into homes, as well as their own breed of infirmary where Anakin had been escorted. Araminta had slumped him down into the healer's stretcher and they had quickly left behind their camp, the assassin ignoring the pounding in her head until they were safe.
That was how she had ended up with oil in her ears, the healer gathering it from some of the pods. He claimed it helped speed up healing, and he had noticed her numbness to noise on the way over. Araminta had mumbled something akin to thanks and accepted the ointment, smoothing it out along the inside ears as far as was safe.
Araminta had still refused to sleep, even when Rex had announced he was going to rest after a night spent guarding the General, nursing his own wounds. Without her ability to hear something coming, she was even less keen on it, and resolved to sit by Anakin's side juggling her knives until they figured out a way to leave the planet.
"You should sleep," Anakin insisted, having been conscious since midday. The oil really did seem to work, and Araminta had managed to regain what she felt was 70% of her hearing back. One was still shot to hell, and the other felt less sensitive than usual, but she figured with another dose she would be fine.
"I don't need sleep," Araminta retorted.
Anakin rolled his eyes. "Liar."
"Go back to sleep," Araminta told him dismissively.
"I don't need sleep," he echoed. Araminta paused, one of her knives still balanced in her hand as she waited idly. The Jedi glanced down at the weapon, then back at her face. "You're gonna stab me, aren't you?"
"Funny," she deadpanned, sheathing the knife in her boot and leaning back, wrapping her arms around her knees.
Anakin pushed himself so he was sitting, the assassin watching the rigid movement warily, as he came to be at the same level as her. "How're your ears?" Anakin asked her. Araminta looked at him in questioning. "I know they were hurt, don't give me that look."
"They're fine," she said nonchalantly. "I can hear you annoying me loud and clear, if that helps."
Anakin snorted. "I'm feeling great, by the way."
"Oh, good," Araminta said, sarcastically. Anakin only smirked at her, as Araminta cracked her knuckles one-by-one. Outside, the sun was starting to set, bathing them in an orange glare, Araminta wincing against the brightness. "I froze yesterday," she told him abruptly before she could stop herself.
