Shape of Water

Chapter Two

Important       ~ AUTHORS NOTE ~     Important

WOW, it has been ages since I updated! Man, life can be all-consuming. Truly, what a mess of upside out and inside down madness. Yet through all of it I am still alive! I am still writing and still functioning. Perhaps not as much as before but gotta earn the green to eat and have nice things - like a working phone and snacks.

Most all, I have you to thank and all the other readers. Thank you for spreading this story and boosting the reads far past what I was ever expecting. It gave me wonderful and amazing amounts of confidence to keep writing it. Those reads and 7 stars made publishing this story, sharing it with Nuada fans, very much worth it - a welcomed surprise. I had expected my Star Wars fic to take off but it didn't as I had hoped.

So here is chapter 2! 

With the use of Grammerly I had fixed some of my errors in this entire fic. No matter how experienced I am in writing, I have my short comings. I am always learning! I will be replacing the chapters shortly after this one. I apologise for the notification spam.

So without further adieu, here is a short nugget you had been waiting for. Hopefully, the chapters will be getting longer in the future.

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The old merchant paused, herbs in hand. Had he witnessed correctly? He peered down at her still features and for a while they did not move. Perhaps not. He resumed, gently applying the herbal paste to the barbaric markings on her neck with trembling hands.

He did not expect the maiden to wake. Nor any who had suffered as she had. With wounds as grievous as this, the body and spirit wavered. It had taken many of his people, dear friends and family, during and after the war. He had witnessed it with his own eyes, the horrors and injustices. It was a miracle the maiden had not succumbed. Yet he knew to not believe it to remain so.

The old merchant tried not to dwell on the very distant past. His heart was not strong enough to relive the horrors of it or his sister's demise. He was barely coping as it was. Instead, he did his best to focus on healing the unmoving maiden before him. The present. He needed to for he did not wish for her to perish. He wished for her, royalty or not, to be free of this horror and pain so that she may live on in peace and joy.

In a short while the old merchant withdrew from the markings on her neck. He had applied the paste as he had done before and the wee-folk handed him a cloth. He thanked them kindly and used it to cleanse his unsteady hands. He then took a folded medical cloth the wee-folk offered and he laid it upon the wound. This will prevent the wrapping from absorbing the herbs.

The old dryad moved on to the maiden's back. The wee-folk drew the sheet back and they worked together to sit her up. His heart ached at how near weightless the child was and vowed to never deny her any form of nourishment she wished. He allowed her limp form to lean into his front as the Little Ones worked carefully to remove the old wrapping as gently as they could. It was a long and tiring process for them and he was deeply grateful for their unwavering efforts and dedication. He held the maiden securely in place as they worked, her chin upon his shoulder, and when the wrappings were removed, the wee-folk discarded them. They chittered and he nodded.

"Please, dear friends," he murmured and the Little Ones clapped their hands together with a bow. They then worked together, each one with an area, to apply the paste to the maiden's wounds with their little hands. He allowed them with no discomfort to climb upon him to reach the maiden's neck and shoulders. He assisted where he could, old heart warm. He knew he would not have managed had he been without them. He would've been forced to call upon a Healer and he knew that in itself would grow unpleasant, if not damning complications.