Blue Blood

Rest Day

Warm sunlight hits my face and I grimace and squeak out a groan. My eyes feel like they're filled with sand, heavy sand. Without opening my eyes I reach out at my side for Rody. I pat the air quickly a few times looking for him. My eyes shoot open. He's gone.

My sleep sack flies off me and I desperately fumble with the latches on the tent door. My mind is running wild with panic like a dog who's master had left suddenly without them. Is he okay? Did someone take him? I'm never sleeping again!

Finally, I tear the door open and fall out. I stumble to my feet and hear giggling. My head shoots around looking for the source of the sound and find my favorite patch of red hair.

My eyes dart around his body looking for blood or scrapes or any other sign of struggle or assault; there is none. My eyes land on the canteens slung around his shoulders heavily. Water drips from them overflowing a bit. Where did he get that? He follows my eyes and smiles.

"There's a neat little spring nearby. We could probably wash up and stuff later. Will you start a fire for me, please? I mean, if it's not a problem."

I nod and sigh happily. He's okay. Wait, he's been exploring!? How long!? He could have died or worse! I groan.

"What's wrong?" He asks concerned.

"Nothing."

" . . . Are you sure?"

Sigh, "not really."

I grab some sticks and place them into a TP structure. I go to reach for our fire tome but his hand catches mine. I'm shaking so badly. My eyes are caught by his baby blues. Worry flows through his sparking eyes.

"Mags . . . Talk to me, please." He begs softly.

I look away and rub my forehead with the back of my hand. I really don't want to talk.

I look up into those big eyes one more time and decide to just let it out. Ugh, this is so embarrassing.

"I'm . . . I'm scared okay?" My voice cracks, dammit!

He looks on with sympathy waiting for me to continue. I push the lump in my throat down but it's a boulder.

"I'm scared that I won't be able to protect you. I'm scared that we're gonna die out here and that I won't be able to save you. I'm scared you'll die first. I'm scared that you'll hate me after the pain I've caused you, afraid that I won't be able to live with myself, I'm just . . . Just . . ."

Steam fills my eyes and I hate it. I want to claw my eyes out, I hate crying, I hate it. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, why can't I just stop! This is pathetic! I've never cried before that stupid ceremony and these stupid woods!

"I'm just scared." I finish quickly wiping my eyes ashamed.

A good knight isn't supposed to be scared, isn't supposed to let their highness fall into harm, to let them wander into danger but I did. I let all that happen. The king was wrong, I'm not meant for greatness, I'm meant for failure.

He places his good hand on my back, "Hey, Hey, it's okay. I get scared too, Everyone does."

"But I shouldn't." I growl and dig my hands into the dirt.

"If you're not scared . . . You're not alive."

I look at him confused. What's that supposed to mean?

"Do you really think those people in the paintings and the history books weren't afraid? Of course they were! They were scared out there pants!"

I stifle a laugh and try to hide my slight smile.

"I'm always scared, you can probably tell. I actually thought for awhile that you didn't ever feel scared. You were-ARE always so brave . . . I always wanted to be like you."

I gaze at him shocked and confused. Why would anyone, let alone a prince, ever want to be like me? This doesn't make sense. I suppose I might have seemed tough but did he really want to be like me? I can't imagine it.

"Mhm, it's the truth. I used to pretend to be you. I walked your walk, tried to talk like you, to eat like you but I was never very good at it. I guess you can't really pretend to be someone else, you can only be you. And do you know what? I think you're pretty awesome."

I smile at him and feel a warmth in my heart. That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.

"But you look really tired right now, you should really go to bed."

"I'm fine." I answer, feeling better.

I go to grab the fire tome once more and it's yanked away before I can grab it.

"That wasn't a suggestion. That was an order."

I raise a brow but he stands his ground. An immovable object. How am I going to be able to fall asleep knowing he's out here in the open, away from my protection?

"Rody . . . I can't sleep without knowing you're safe-"

"I'll be fine."

"Rody . . ."

"I'm fine! Go to bed and I promise if any tiny little thing happens, I'll wake you up immediately. I swear."

I scan his eyes for any faults but there are none.

" . . . You swear?"

He nods and I reluctantly file into the tent and flop onto my sleeping bag. From outside the tent a fire starts to crackle nicely. What if he burns himself? Stop thinking about it. But-just go to sleep already. I could really go for a light coma right about now.

My stomach decides to chime in like a roar of thunder and I remember that we haven't eaten for at least a full day. I groan and push the stomach pain to the back of my head.

The world around me starts to spin and my eyes feel heavier yet still something inside me tells me to stay awake. Slowly, that voice gets quieter and quieter until it's less than a whisper. My eyes close and I almost moan at how good it feels to relax enough to rest. I just have to keep telling myself to trust Rody, to trust that he'll be okay.

I'm lulled to sleep by the orange fire, the gentle breeze and the sizzle of boiling water. Deep breath in . . . Deep breath out . . . And I'm asleep, finally.