Otherworld

Part 8

Bridged didn't venture far from Arnold's side as he lay unconscious on the low lying bed that he had been placed on after the healer tended to him. The farthest she went was when she had to use the bathroom. She was grateful that whenever she left Arnold's side, one of the healers took up watch until she came back.

Food was brought to Bridged at each meal as well as a weak broth like substance for Arnold. The broth smelled rich and earthy. Through charades, Bridged understood that the broth helped the body heal and was vital in fighting the fever that currently raged in Arnold's body.

The bullet wounds were slow to heal and the fever was even slower to leave Arnold's weak body. Days turned into weeks as Arnold lay fighting for his life. Bridged kept her fears at bay by talking to Arnold of all that was happening.

At long last, did the day come when Arnold awoke from his stupor. Bridged was curled up on her side stroking Arnold's chest and watching the activity in the village when Arnold stirred. Bridged sat up and peered anxiously down at Arnold. Tears burned in her eyes as Arnold's eyelids fluttered.

"Arnold my love." Bridged said as she reached up and stroked a hand down her husband's stubble roughened cheek.

Arnold's eyelashes fluttered before his eyes slowly opened. Tears splashed against Arnold's chest as Bridged blinked. Concern flashed in Arnold's eyes as he raised a hand to weakly brush at the tears on Bridged's face.

"Why are you crying love?"

Bridged captured Arnold's hand and pressed a kiss into his palm. She gazed lovingly down at Arnold. "You were injured and have been unconscious ever since."

Arnold blinked slowly in confusion. "How long?"

"Almost a month."

Arnold blinked in surprise before he closed his eyes. "That explains why I feel so weak." Arnold opened his eyes again. "Where are we? Are we safe?"

"The natives saved us. They were watching the camp." Heat suffused Bridged's cheeks. "I believe they saw us being intimate too."

A smirk flitted briefly across Arnold's face as he tugged his hand away from Bridged and closed his eyes again. "I hope they enjoyed the show."

Bridged smacked Arnold lightly on the shoulder. "I'm glad that they were curious enough to continue watching us after everyone went to sleep. Without their aid, we would both be dead."

"Remind me to thank them." Arnold murmured sleepily.

Bridged leaned down and placed a kiss on Arnold's cheek. "I will. Just rest now."

Bridged was eating some sort of root stew when Arnold woke again. He looked a little better, but was still very weak. Bridged helped Arnold sit up with help from the natives. A young boy kept his grip on Arnold as Bridged helped feed him.

Once Arnold was done eating one of the healers approached with several young women. Bridged gave Arnold an impish grin as she stood up with the empty bowl of broth. Arnold frowned at her.

"Where are you going?"

Bridged lifted her arm and sniffed at her armpit. "I am headed to the river to bathe. You are going to be getting a bath as well. We both need it."

Arnold chuckled weakly, but stopped as the action caused him pain. Arnold waved Bridged away when she started to sink back down beside him. "Go and enjoy your bath. I will sure enjoy mine."

"Don't start getting any ideas Arnold?"

Arnold's eyes twinkled as he waved Bridged away. "I will be here when you get back."

Bridged walked through the temporary village as she went to give her bowl to one of the cooks who would wash her bowl. Many natives smiled at her and offered her greetings. Bridged greeted them back.

Bridged found one of the young girls who always seemed curious about everything and spent a lot of time watching Bridged and Arnold. The girl brightened up when Bridged made it known that she wanted to take a bath. A whole gaggle of natives went with Bridged and the girl as they headed down to the river to bathe.

It was an experience for Bridged. It reminded her of communal showering in high school and college, but much better. The native women and girls were just as curious about who Bridged looked as she was about them. Bridged noted in a detached way, that the women had no hair anywhere except on their heads. They seemed amazed at all of the hair that Bridged had, especially the hair on her genitals.

Bridged was grateful for the ability to get clean without having to worry about being spied on by the General and his men. While Bridged bathed, a few of the native women washed all their clothes. They waved Bridged away when she offered to help.

Once the act of bathing was done, Bridged stretched out on the grassy shore of the river. The sun felt warm against Bridged's skin as the water slowly evaporated off of her. Bridged rolled over and pillowed her head on her arms so that the rest of her could dry off. The young native girl appeared by Bridged's side once Bridged was dry. Bridged watched as the girl explained the use of the oil that glistened in an earthen ware bowl. The oil had the consistency of coconut oil, but smelled very earthy.

Bridged slipped into her clean clothes. As she dressed, Bridged noticed how worn her clothes were getting. Pretty soon Bridged would need new clothes. Her gaze studied the clothing that the native women wore. She wasn't sure about baring her breasts like the women do, but Bridged was sure that she could find a way around that.

Arnold was sitting up, leaning against a rock, when Bridged returned. His hair was wet and he smelled clean. It was so odd seeing Arnold in only a loincloth. Even though Arnold was super skinny now, it didn't detract from how attractive he was.

Arnold's face lit up when Bridged came back into view. Bridged sank down beside Arnold. She ran her fingers down his cheek. Arnold nipped at Bridged's finger causing Bridged to jump. Arnold smirked at her.

"I haven't seen you this wooly since college."

Arnold reached up and scratched at his face. "I remember why I quit growing a beard this long. It's very itchy."

A giggle escaped Bridged. "I'm sure I can find something for you to shave with."

Arnold intertwined his fingers with Bridged's. "I'd say I could borrow one from the natives, but it seems that they are as hairless as the Native Americans are."

Bridged hummed in agreement. "True, but these people don't even have pubic hair."

Arnold grunted at that. "That explains why the women were fascinated with it."

Laughter escaped Bridged. "I suffered the same experience when I bathed with them."

"Were you inured?"

Bridged shook her head as she snuggled up against Arnold glad that she didn't have to pretend to hate him. "Nothing too serious, a few abrasions and some pretty gnarly bruises that are beginning to fade."

Arnold pressed a kiss against Bridged's hair. "When I can figure out the language here, I will formally thank the natives for their help."

"Good luck." Bridged murmured as she turned and placed kisses down Arnold's jaw. "I can't make heads or tails out of their language. So far, I have a mean game of charades going with them."

"Of course you do," Arnold said with a chuckle. "Now that I'm awake I'll see if I can make any progress with their language. It does sound remarkably like the Elvish spoken on Lord of the Rings."

Bridged people watched with Arnold until he got tired. Bridged got several of the men together to help take Arnold back to his bed. Arnold fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the ground. Bridged lay down beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. Arnold wrapped an arm around Bridged and murmured something to her as he fell asleep. Bridged watched Arnold sleep before she too closed her eyes and fell into an exhausted worry free sleep.