If I Just Dreamed

Sympathy- (12 of 13)

A cool, antiseptic scent, sharp and unfamiliar, first reached Niah as gentle hands carefully unwrapped the makeshift bandage from her arm. A faint sting rippled through the raw and exposed skin as the cloth lifted. It revealed an angry, red wound. Then came the distinct, precise pricking sensation of the needle. Not agonizing, but a succession of tiny, deliberate bites as it pierced her skin, pulling the edges of the wound together with a fine, almost rhythmic precision. Each stitch felt like a tight, pulling pinch, a careful drawing-together that was both uncomfortable and a strange relief.

Her clothes had been blood-stained and dirty, a contrast to the delicate sheets, folded and pressed, the smell of lavender of the room was dominated by the combination of both the blood, and the disinfectant.

"Doctor Borville sends his apologies." Nibble fingers had dipped a cloth into a fresh bowl of clean, warm water, and dabbed it on the stitched wound, Niah's jaw clenched with little relief as the doctor pulled away. "We can't keep enough fluids in the Zora boy."

Niah's eyes were still clouded with residual pain and frustration, her head snapped to the healer's face. A bitter retort formed before she had the means to temper it in a low, clipped tone. "What did you expect? He's a Zora boy." Fortunately, the words never left her mouth, but she felt a familiar pang of regret, the sharpness of her own unthinking anger surprised even herself in the quiet room.

The doctor only hummed. It lacked malice, as if she had experienced the aura of pain and anger even before it had the audacity to manifest. In that moment, Niah missed the presence of Midna lingering in her shadow. They spoke very little to each other except that one time, a time that was meaningful, but in retrospect, there was a sense of illusion.

She wasn't sure when the world faded out, and her mind crawled inward, but there was a mumble of a soft voice, and a wet cloth, cool, but smelled of alcohol that pressed lightly against her skin. The world came back with a sharp, stinging pain that echoed through the rest of her flush body. Niah's eyes darted towards the cause – the antiseptic, she realized, and the nurse, or doctor, or whatever she was, apologized in a low tone, and then with a hush that followed after. Somehow, the cooing from the woman was worse than a punch to the jaw, or the regret as she seldomly remembers her father. She hissed again at the next dab, but this time it almost felt like it sizzled her skin when she finally realized it lingered longer, and she knew it was water. There's a different feeling between water and alcohol on a wound even without looking.

A dry cloth followed, it dragged against her skin, and it was feathery light but it felt bruising at the same time. Her eyes followed the movement in anticipation, but when nothing came, she looked around the room she was previously numb to – absent from mentally. When the doctor and Ilia moved slowly, Niah felt like she was moving at a million miles per second.

There was a mumble from the doctor about keeping the stitches clean and how she needed to rest. Niah knew she was feverish, but she also knew with proper care, she wouldn't lose the arm, neither of them needed two people crippling around dungeons. There was a hand placed on her uninjured shoulder, it was meant for comfort but Niah could only nod.

As the doctor left, Ilia was given a bottle of what she assumed to be potion. Red potion, as if that would do a lot of good for her. If spring water couldn't heal a simple cut, then neither would a red potion. It was almost too comical to be taken seriously, either way, it was best to keep her mouth shut, she at least owed Ilia that.

Ilia? Her mind was fogged for just a moment before she turned her gaze towards her. Niah hadn't thought for a moment to acknowledge her now, but there was a spark in her eyes that forced her to recognize the woman. Their brief, yet unfortunate introduction left little to be desired of Niah's character. She owed Ilia for her questionless kindness at the very least, just not right now. Not when she was irritated and disheveled and still bloody.