From Iron and Ruin

New titles.

Chapter 23:  New titles.

Vanya.

I made no sound as I came around, feeling as if my body had been filled with rocks. Blinking up at the red-stone ceiling, I tried to think through the mustiness in my brain.

A sudden breath startled me.

I turned my leaden head to stare at the Captain sleeping on a hard chair. There were dark circles under his eyes and his body slumped. A rare sight. I wasn't even sure that Captain Bryant could sleep.

The lack of pain was startling. I moved slowly, afraid that one wrong move would trigger that wash of pain. I didn't know if it was worse than it had been in Dratlan, but there was a heavy weakness in my bones as I eased my legs over the bed.

Four thrones.

My fingers were bone-white as they clenched the foot-board of the bed as I rose. I trembled, weak on my legs like a new-born foal but I was determined to move. In achingly slow steps, I hobbled to the mirror. I braced against the small dresser, my lungs heaving. Walking had sapped my energy.

I looked at myself.

And bit down hard onto my lip as the urge to cry rose like a vicious beast. With a shaking hand, I wiped at the escaping tears. My hair must have been washed and bound when I was asleep, but that was not what bothered me. It was the long section of hair coloured pure silver from the roots that I couldn't look away from.

But that wasn't the only startling thing. There were bruises on my neck and when I pulled up my night-gown, my legs were mottled purple and blue. Along my arms, there were more and then there was long and thin scratches along my skin that were already healing but had not yet faded.

I had battled the Abyss and won.

But- victory was hollow

Vanya.

I bowed my head, sucking in a ragged breath. How could I have forgotten that for even a moment? I turned to look at the Captain sleeping in the cramped chair, his brow heavy and troubled. Tears ran over the rise of my fond smile. Even in sleep, Mahon Bryant managed to look dissatisfied. Were his dreams not up to his standards. Were his nightmares quivering under his glare?

My smile died. I felt so hollow and dead – lifeless as if I was strung up by thin wires and I was moving just because instinct told me to. My reflection was gaunt and the dark circles under my eyes hung heavy.

"Unacceptable," the Captain murmured. "Grain is not for bears!"

Grain?

The Captain was stirring with a low groan, his long lashes fluttering against his cheekbones. Gripping the arms of the chair with sudden roughness, he jolted up and blinked at the empty bed.

"I haven't left yet, Captain." I croaked.

Bleary eyes swept towards me. He rose quickly, lips pressed tight in disapproval. "You shouldn't be out of bed."

"Things haven't changed I see." My voice sounded woefully weak. Every word hurt, as if my screaming had tore into my throat, leaving jagged wounds along its path. Mahon looked tired too, his shoulders heavy and his dark hair rough and unbrushed.

Anger sparked in Mahon's eyes. "You are remarkably mobile for a woman who was on the verge of death. I suggest that you get back into bed."