Wrestling ONE SHOTS and IMAGINES

116 Damian Priest

[A/N: Another attempt at the fantasy theme. I know the first attempt (a Roman one) wasn't well received by everyone, but I always like to try something new. Let me know what you think please. xo S]

As she had done every evening for the last few weeks, Y/N walked down the beach in the late dusk to see if there was finally a sign that the elders were returning.

The torch she carried cast a little light on the sand and the water. But at the same time it also created shadows that moved as if they were alive. They almost seemed as if they were reaching out to pull her into the eternal darkness. These thoughts were harder to shake off the longer Y/N was alone here on the island.

So many people had not made it back to the island in recent years. Again and again they wondered whether it was free will or whether they had had an ill-fated accident on the dangerous way back. In either case, it wouldn't be the first time.

Y/N herself had rarely left her home. She had everything she needed. Or at least she assumed she did, because she didn't know any better. She didn't know how many other, new things might be waiting for her. Or how many other people there were out there, beyond the sea.

Suddenly she saw that the tide had washed something ashore. Her heart immediately sank a little. These pieces of wood that could only have come from a ship were too familiar. She immediately wondered if her family had been hit this time and if she was the last one here.

More and more debris appeared on her way along the beach. Y/N's heart was beating fast because there was something lying in the sand not far from her. But it didn't look like a piece of wood. 

The glow of the torch hit the unknown as she took a few steps closer. It was a man. A rather large man who had landed here. And as Y/N stood there, she quickly saw his chest slowly rise and fall. He was alive. He had actually survived. That had never happened before. No one had ever survived a shipwreck. Often only dead bodies were left here, or what the sharks had left of them.

Y/N walked a little closer and saw how blood and sand covered the stranger's face. He was obviously badly injured. His whole body shook from the cold. The water and the cool wind were taking their toll. 

She knew she had to act. She quickly stuck the torch into the sand next to the man and then hurried to where the beach met the trees. As quickly as she could, she gathered dry wood. Branches, leaves, dry driftwood. She gathered everything she could find so quickly and piled it up. Then she lit it with the help of the torch.

The dry wood quickly began to burn and the warmth spread around them. That would have to do for a moment. Y/N quickly thought about how she could help him better, her options were limited as she was alone.

But being a bright woman, she quickly thought of something. She hurried to her cottage and gathered several blankets and rags. She threw them all on the cot that was often used to transport firewood and other things. She then took a jug and filled it with clean water before making her way back to the beach. 

Since she knew the shortest routes, it didn't take her long to reach the man again. She was relieved to see that he seemed to be shivering a little less than he had been a good ten minutes ago. She carefully spread a blanket over him to warm him even more. Then she soaked a cloth and used it to clean the wound on his head.

Fortunately, it was not as deep as she had first feared. But Y/N knew that it was certainly not the only injury. From the look of his arm, it was probably fractured. She would brace him later. But that wasn't important now, at least not while the man was unconscious.

The crackling of the fire and the crashing of the waves was all that could be heard. By now it was so late that it was deepest night around them. It was as if the two of them would be swallowed up by the shadows should they step out of the glow of the fire.

Y/N cleaned the rest of the stranger's face. His long, dark hair was tangled so she began to carefully loosen the knots with her fingers. Again, a lot of time passed, but suddenly something changed. A soft grunt could be heard from the man. A groan that let you know immediately that he was in pain.

"Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?" Y/N asked gently as she bent over him.

His eyelids began to flutter, but it took a little while before he finally opened them. He stared straight up into her eyes and for a very brief moment the pain in his body, the burning in his lungs, was gone.

He was dead, he was sure of it. Because this... her and the absence of pain could only be heaven.

"Are you an angel?" he asked in a voice deeper than anything she had ever heard.

"Far from it... Do you have a name, stranger?" she asked him.

"Damian... I'm Damian." he replied weakly.

It was more exhausting than he had thought possible. After all, he was a strong, robust man. Nevertheless, he wanted to sit up to prove to himself that he wasn't weak. But he immediately began to cough violently. The seawater he had probably swallowed made his lungs burn like fire.

"You're badly hurt. Lie down and rest." Y/N said as she helped him.

Again he looked into her eyes. They were an unusual color. Almost like fire or liquid caramel. So warm and kind and yet mysterious and wise beyond her years.

"I'll take care of your arm now, Damian. Do you think your legs are fine? Can you walk later?" she wanted to know.

"I... yes, I think so. Where shall we go?" he replied as he watched her tend to his arm.

A hiss escaped him as a new pain ran through him.

"Sorry... it's almost done. I need to get you to my cottage. It's not safe out here. But don't worry, I'll take care of you until you're better," she explained to him.

"What's your name, my lady? I need to know who to thank." Damian said.

"Y/N. Just Y/N.. And you don't have anything to thank me for yet. Because you're certainly not out of the woods yet. Even if you are lucky to have survived a shipwreck," she replied.

Published November 18, 2023