Sorrow {Odette}

[odette]

[/i] dead, instead of just in pain. Odette lifted her head up from the bowed position it was in - realizing with disdain that there was blood in her golden locks, because at sometime during her part in the fight her hair had come out once more - to watch the fight.

The man she had saved was on his feet, sword in hand. "This... This is an outrage!" He shouted to the room, not really to any one person in particular. Odette found herself in agreement. Honestly, there should have been more aid from these people, rather than morbid intrest. "When the royal guard hears of this, you will all be put under arrest!" He screamed at the three men, stabbing his sword at them - not really as an attack but as a pointing gesture. She looked up at the men, staring at their faces - wondering if she would even remember them. She saw so many people everyday, including would-be assassins, that she was unsure. Still, she tried anyway.

The swordsman shoved the men away from them before retreating from their fallen bodies. "And the rest of you! You all disgust me. Just standing there as your Princess was assaulted! Cowards!" He cried at them. Yes, that was what they were. Even she - a noncombatant (even if the fight was over her life) - had taken part in the fight and gotten injured for it, and they had just sat there, all of them. He sheathed his sword and then lifted her up, tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of grain. That was not the most dignified way she could have been carried out, but since he'd just saved her life she really didn't have any room to complain. Well, other than the fact that his shoulder was digging painfully into her bruised abdomen and the fact that the sudden movement had jarred her shoulder wound, both causing her a whimper of pain.

It was raining outside, and the cold drops were a pleasant change from the hot tavern. Maybe the water would wash the blood off of her hair. "Why did you do that?" The man who was carrying her away demanded of her. Since she was having a hard time focusing on anything but not getting dizzy from the odd angle in which she was being carried, she didn't respond to him. When he finally slowed from his run - how he had managed that with her over his shoulder she'd never figure out - she took a breath and closed her eyes so that she couldn't see the ground. "Could- Could you set me down? Or carry me in some other fashion? It hurts." She asked him. It would help the pain some, and she wouldn't get dizzy and be unable to speak. "And I did it because I wasn't going to just stand there and let them kill you!"

She wondered how bad her shoulder was. Did they need to find some healer nearby, or could they go to the Castle where there were a few healers waiting on standby for anyone who was injured or sick - be they knight or noble. She didn't mind either way, but depending on which one she needed would tell her just how bad the wound was.[/ul]

[Tybalt Lyon]

“Could- Could you set me down? Or carry me in some other fashion? It hurts. And I did it because I wasn't going to just stand there and let them kill you!”

“Sorry,” Tybalt muttered under his breath. “I just wanted to get out of there.” Hmph! So she was complaining after he had saved her? Well, actually, it had more been her that saved him… but still… whatever. He nearly tossed her down, but then he reminded himself that she was injured, and that rough-handling her probably wasn’t the best idea. He slowed his pace, glancing around, trying to find some sort of shelter. It was hard to see in the pouring rain, and everything was slightly hazy because of the mist that had began to flow through the streets, coming from the ocean. He wasn’t going back to the tavern, no freaking way, but there didn’t seem to be much shelter around here, unless they were to go and knock on some randomer’s door. He didn’t really want to do that though, as there was no telling what kind of reaction he would get. Luckily, he spotted a building down the street with a protruding roof, so he quickly jogged over to it and then set the princess down, this time trying to be more gentle.

“That was quite stupid of you,” he scolded her, a frown plastered to his face. “Risking your life for some commoner? Honestly. You could have been killed!” He knew that he was stating the obvious that that the princess probably already knew all of this, but he still said it. “You need to be more careful, princess” he added in a low tone. “What would happen if you died? That would make three assassinations in only four months. Do you really think the kingdom could handle that?” He stopped himself from going any farther, biting down on his tongue before he said more. He didn’t want to say anything that might come off as rude, but with his temper this high he wasn’t sure if he would be able to help it. The man drew in a long breath, letting the scent of the rain calm him, and then exhaled slowly. “Nevermind that though,” he muttered, lifting a hand and massaging his temples. “What’s happened has happened.”

Tybalt let his eyes come to rest on the wound on the girl’s shoulder. The blood was running down her clothes, smeared by the rain, and it was impossible to tell how badly it was actually bleeding. He took a step toward her, moving hesitantly, and then swept her blonde hair away from the wound on her shoulder, trying to get a better view. He winced. It didn’t look like it was too terribly deep, but it still looked painful. “You need to see a healer,” he told her with a sigh. Great. This was great. Now if she died it was going to be all his fault, and personally he didn’t really want to live with knowing the princess’s death had been his fault.

“See? Look what you’ve done…” Where the hell were they going to find a freaking healer way out here by the beach anyway? He muttered something under his breath and then reached down and then began tearing a piece of his own shirt off. It was a bit wet, but it would have to do. It was better than nothing. He examined the blue cloth he held, making sure it was clean, and then reached out toward her. “May I?” he asked, holding the rag of his shirt out a little awkwardly. He wasn’t a goddamned healer. He didn’t know what to do. But maybe tying this piece of shirt around the wound would slow the bleeding a little.

[/blockquote]

[odette]

[/i] That made sense. And it wasn't like she was blaming him for anything this time! It was a simple request - she hadn't thought her tone had been hostile or whiny, but he seemed kind of annoyed that she had asked him to let her down. It wasn't her fault that it hurt. Okay, maybe it was. She shouldn't have jumped in front of the blade, but what else was she going to do? Stand there and watch the guy who was saving her get killed? That would be horrible of her - she wasn't the type to just watch people die. What kind of Princess would she be if that were her way? A poor one, that's what she thought.

After a few more minutes of being carried, he set her down - more gently than he had in previous encounters that required him to move her from one location to another - underneath some sort of awning. It wasn't much shelter from the rain, but it was better than standing out in the middle of the road, so she wasn't complaining. Besides, after glancing down the road, she'd noticed there wasn't much else in the way of shelter. Then, as the man scolded her, she turned her gaze back onto him, taking in his features while listening to what he said. She was trying to figure out why he was so familiar while he told her how stupid she had been to put herself under the blade.

"What would happen if you died? That would make three assassinations in only four months. Do you really think the kingdom could handle that?" No, they probably couldn't. Half the people would either turn into doomsayers or followers of the doomsayers, while the others would turn coat and travel to other lands. The few loyalists would be few and far between, especially after her brother got a hold of the crown and became King. Until he settled down, there was no way he could hold such a high position of power.

"I don't know..." She mumbled, not denying his words. She knew he was right - right in what he was saying and right to be angry. The realm would go to pieces with my brother on the throne, she thought, rather than saying it aloud. That would be dangerous to say, especially to one who was next to a stranger. But, was he really? Her eyes went back to his face as he spoke again and massaged his temples. Yes, she knew she knew him, but from where? What would have given them any sort of connection? Not an audience, she'd have remembered something that recent. It had to be before the assassinations, then, because she hadn't started that until after her parents were gone.

He moved closer to her and, hesitantly, moved her hair away from the wounded shoulder. She turned her head to the side to help keep the hair away as he inspected the damage. "You need to see a healer." Great. She was in so much trouble, especially once her advisers got a hold of her. After they determined she wasn't going to die, she was going to get it. And now, after getting injured, she'd never get to go outside by herself again. Great. Just great. She did not want to be followed around by a gaggle of nursemaids! If she was to be ruler of the realm, then she had to be trusted to some degree, right?

"See? Look what you've done..." Well, she hadn't planned to get injured! She bit her tongue on the retort. This guy had just saved her life, and she wasn't about to make him angry. That would be plain stupid. He could just ditch her here, and then what would become of her? She could bleed to death, or some other guy would try to kill her. If she got lucky she might find a guard or someone who could take her to a healer - or to the castle. "Sorry." She said - and she meant it. She'd pulled him into this mess by being the Princess, the next Queen. If she hadn't snuck out, she'd have had guards. If she'd have had guards, none of this would have happened. That, or if she had stayed in the Castle like a good little Princess.

"May I?" He asked, holding a strip of cloth in his hand. It was probably to tie against the wound. "Yes." Because "yeah" wasn't something a Princess said. "Go ahead." It was really bugging her. Where did she know this man from? She didn't want to ask, because that would be extremely rude, but the curiosity was eating at her. Why would she know him? That was the biggest thing that was eating at her. She doubted a noble would be at a seaside tavern - and she knew almost all the nobles who would come for any reason to her lands so that was out. All that was left were the Knights - but he wasn't a Knight. She'd have realized - wait.

There was a man, a few years ago, who had been dismissed from the royal army because he had been too badly wounded to continue fighting. That didn't seem to be the case here - he'd fought just fine for her, from what she could tell. What was his name? It started with a T? Right? Tyran? Tyler? No. No. Tymon... Tyne... Tybalt! It was Tybalt. That name sounded right. "You're... you're Tybalt, aren't you? From the army?" She asked, slowly, her tone curious. She hoped he wouldn't bite her head off because she asked.[/ul]

[Tybalt Lyon]

“Sorry.”

Tybalt didn’t pay much attention to her apology. He was still furious about what had happened back at the tavern. Not necessarily with the girl, but with all the people that had just stood there watching. Not one of them had made a move to help. What selfish cowards they were. He hoped they all died horrible deaths. “You shouldn’t even be out here,” he informed the girl in front of him firmly. “Not without an escort.” Did she know how dangerous it was? Well, yes, he supposed she did now, after nearly being killed. Luckily, he kept his rather rude thoughts to himself. “You’re lucky to still have your arm,” he added in his deep voice.

“Yes. Go ahead.”

With the princess’s permission, Tybalt took a step forward, cloth in hand. He lightly wrapped it under her arm, making a loop so that it wrapped around the wound on her shoulder. He’d never really done anything like this before, so it was probably going to be a crappy job, but whatever. It was better than just leaving it an open wound. “Are you feeling dizzy at all? Lightheaded?” he asked as he worked, trying to make his hands move how he wanted, attempting to tie a knot with the cloth. It was harder than it looked, especially with a bad arm and a glass shard jammed in his one hand.

“You're... you're Tybalt, aren't you? From the army?”

Tybalt’s eyes widened, the princess’s words catching him by surprise. His grip on the cloth slipped as she spoke, and he accidentally tugged it too tight. He quickly loosened his grip again, realizing that had probably hurt her. So… she knew who he was after all? He hadn’t thought she would remember him. After all, he was just one knight among many. His face would surely blend in with the rest. “Yes,” he answered after a few moment’s hesitation. The tone of his voice was hard to read. He wasn’t angry though, no, that wasn’t the right emotion. He didn’t get many of those questions anymore, and over the years he had slowly faded into the background. He remembered that when he had first been dismissed from the army people would always come up to him, gawking, asking if he was indeed the mighty Tybalt. Yes, yes he was, though he was not so mighty anymore. He was nothing more than a peasant now, just some random commoner that no one remembered.

“So, you remember me, do you Princess?” His voice was a little bitter as he spoke, though it wasn’t directed at the girl. If he remembered correctly, they had only met once before, years ago, back when they had both been younger. It hadn’t been an incredibly meaningful meeting, but he remembered it. She was the princess, after all, and there were few that would forget being graced with the honor of standing in her presence. As for him, he was just a knight. There were a lot of knights. It wouldn’t be surprising if she had forgotten him. Judging by the hesitance in her voice, he guessed that she didn’t quite remember the meeting, and that she was only guessing. Well, damn, she was a good guesser then, because she’d gotten it right.

He finished tying the cloth around her shoulder, gently tugging the two ends into a small lopsided knot, and then stepped back. The bandage looked a little awkward, and it was clear that he had never attempted anything like it before. Whatever. It would just have to do. Some of the blood had started to soak through the cloth though, and Tybalt wasn’t sure how long it was going to hold out. “Damn,” he sighed, closing his eyes.

As he drew back, there was a sharp twinge in his upper arm, and he winced slightly. He clutched at his arm with his hand, trying to make the pain go away, and a sad look passed through his eyes. If only he could use his damn arm… If it worked like a normal person’s limb he would have been able to fight those bastards off no problem at all. That hadn’t been the case though. He had buckled under the first strike of the enemy’s blade. He had faltered and dropped his sword. This was why, this was why he was no longer accepted among the ranks of the other knights. The king had said he was letting Tybalt go for ‘his own good.’ He had said that if he let the former knight continue to fight he would most likely perish in battle. But wouldn’t that be better than living a meaningless life? He wondered… Would the king have passed the same verdict if he had known his former hero was going to spend the rest of his life getting drunk at the local tavern, spending all his money on ale? He would have rather died in battle, died a heroic and honorable death, than having to live like this.

“I know it sucks,” Tybalt mumbled, tuning back into reality. “But it’s the best I can do until we are able to get you to a healer.”

[/blockquote]

[odette]

[/i] He chided. She realized this - and she was sure he knew that she knew as well. It was quite obvious why she was supposed to have an escort - it would ensure that things like her attack would fail. "You're lucky to still have your arm." Odette winced - not from pain but from his statement. She hadn't thought her wound was that bad. Odette didn't want to contemplate how hard it would be to take care of all of her obligations with only one arm. Her advisers were going to have a bloody fit.

Tybalt - she was nearly sure that this was him, even though she had no confirmation - began to wrap the scrap around her shoulder to stop the blood flow. Her hand, which had been against the wound, was still sticky with the red fluid - though the rain was slowly washing it away. "Are you feeling dizzy at all? Lightheaded?" He asked as he carefully worked at her shoulder. As he asked after her health, she noticed a pounding in her head - which had slowly been working its way to the front and foremost of her thoughts. It was in the front of her head, and it was pounding in time with her heartbeat.

"My... my head hurts a bit." She admitted, trying not to complain. This wasn't supposed to happen to her; she wasn't supposed to be hurt or endangered in any way, but look at her! She'd taken a sword to the shoulder. Her parents - their beloved rulers - had been assassinated in their very home. That just went to prove that bad things could happen to anyone, no matter who they were. Odette winced as the cloth pressed too-tightly against her wound, but it slacked almost instantly. She looked at the man, confused, before realizing that her words had probably been a shock to him. After all, the last time he'd been to the castle was five years ago - she had only been thirteen. "Yes," was his hesitant reply. "So, you remember me, do you Princess?"

"Not very well, no. I remember what happened to you, though." She said, slowly. Word of his dismissal had come back to her and her brother - not much could be kept from the royal children. Besides, even if she hadn't heard of it, she would still know his name. She'd been going through different records as she went about her daily life, taking care of the realm. His name had popped up in earlier records, so it was at least familiar. "We had to have met once, right? I wouldn't recognize you if we hadn't." She said, slowly. She didn't want to be offensive in being unable to remember him - she came in contact with so many people everyday.

He tied off the cloth and stepped back from her, eyeing his work. She glanced over as he said "Damn," curious as to what had elicited such a remark. She figured it out quickly - the strip was doing very little to stop the blood. Odette put her hand to the wound, as if that would stop the blood flow. The sword must have bit deeper than either of them had realized for it to be bleeding that badly - there was a major artery located in the shoulder. She might have kept her arm, but that artery could pump out a lot of blood.

Odette closed her eyes as she started seeing double - not majorly, but at the edges. That was a bad sign, she was sure. "We need to get to a doctor, somewhere." The woman whispered. It didn't matter who it was, as long as they knew their craft well enough to help her. "Do you know where we could go?" She had no idea what was in this area - she didn't come to the harbor often. Maybe they could find a guard post and commandeer a horse or something and travel by horse to a doctor, if there was nothing else.

(( I trust you to do whatever. ))[/ul]

[Tybalt Lyon]

"Not very well, no. I remember what happened to you, though. We had to have met once, right? I wouldn't recognize you if we hadn't."

“Doesn’t everyone,” Tybalt muttered, rolling his eyes before glancing off to the side. He didn’t need to be reminded of that. He remembered it all too well. Could he ever really forget? Besides, the princess didn't really 'remember'. She hadn't been there when it had happened, she hadn't had to live through it... She'd just heard about it somewhere, probably from the king. Her words sparked a flicker of anger in his eyes, but he reminded himself that this wasn’t the time to let his temper flare up. The princess was injured. He wasn’t sure how serious it was, but it didn’t look good. He needed to try and help her, not yell at her. He inhaled deeply, slowly exhaling, and then he told her, “We met once. It was a long time ago though, so it’s not like I expect you to remember. I am just a face among many to you.” And that’s just the way he planned to keep it. She’d just remember him as ‘that rude ex-knight’ or ‘that man who had caused her lots of trouble’ or something similar, which he was perfectly fine with. It wasn’t as if they’d see each other after today anyway. She’d go back to the castle, sit on her throne, rule the country... He’d go back to the tavern, collapse on his bar stool, get drunk. Fate wouldn't have it any other way!

“My... my head hurts a bit.”

Tybalt was brought out of his inner thoughts by her voice. She sounded a little reluctant about admitting it. Worry lines formed on his face as he studied her. Her head hurt? Well, damn. Had she gotten hit in the head when he wasn’t looking? Or was this a symptom of blood loss? He clenched his jaw, wishing that he had more medical knowledge. He was useless when it came to stuff like this. All he knew was fighting. That’s all his years of training had covered. Of course, there had been the basic lessons about what to do if you, yourself, were injured. Try to stay still, keep your breathing regulated, stay focused on something… They didn’t teach you how to be a freaking doctor though. He could tell you a hundred different ways to kill a person, but he couldn’t tell you anything about how to heal them. “Great,” he said with a sigh, letting his head fall forward a little.

“We need to get to a doctor, somewhere. Do you know where we could go?”

Yeah, he already knew that much. What he didn’t know, however, was if there were any good healers in the area. “I…don’t know,” he said, sounding a little frustrated. Think! Think damn it! There had to be a doctor around here somewhere. Tybalt wasn’t really one to see healers though, and instead he would just suffer in silence. If it had been him that’d been stabbed by the sword he probably would have been refusing to seek any medical help right now, and he would continue to do so until he fainted from blood loss. Luckily, this girl seemed smarter than that. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. Doctors… Doctors… OH! There was one. He was a rather old man and he had been out of practice for a few years now, but he would do. He’d have to. Tybalt had gone to him about a year ago after getting in a bad ‘bar fight.’ Or, rather, the man had come to him, having seen him collapsed in the middle of the road. “Wait. There is someone. He owns an inn somewhere around here,” he said out loud. “He’s not a professional, but you’re just gonna have to trust me.”

Tybalt let his hand fall from his sore arm and then took a step toward the girl. He reached out and flipped her hood up over her head, moving it so she wouldn’t get any more soaked than she already was. “You up for that, Princess?” he asked, leaning over slightly, peering under her hood at her. “Because I don’t think going back to the castle is an option right now.” And it wasn’t. The castle was much too far away, as was the main village, and it would take ages to travel all the way there on foot. Maybe if they had a horse or something they could make it in time, but they didn’t. That left them with few options.

[/blockquote]

[odette]

[/i] He said, rolling his eyes. She sighed. Now he was upset - it wasn't her fault that she didn't remember everything from the age of thirteen! At thirteen, her parents were more worried about getting her to pay attention to her studies (and to get her brother to attend his) than letting them sit in on their audiences and council members. She hadn't heard about the dismissal was later - not like she could have stopped it. One of his arms had been too badly injured to allow him to continue being a knight - so they had to lay him off. "We met once. It was a long time ago, though, so it's not like I expect you to remember. I am just a face among many to you." He told her firmly.

"Right now you're the man who saved my life. That's not 'just a face'." She told him, just as firmly. It was true - whatever had happened in the past between him and her parents was just that: in the past. Right now, in the present, she owed him a life debt. He could ask anything of her - within reasons. She wasn't going to kill anyone because he asked - and she would grant it. She could do things like that, since she was the one holding the throne. The advisers could gripe, groan, and complain but they couldn't do anything short of attempting to remove her from the throne; and if she didn't do anything illegal or immoral, there was no basis and they couldn't - by law - do so. There. She had learned a thing or two.

"Great." He sighed. Obviously he didn't know any skills that would help her stop bleeding - and doctoring skills weren't one of the things a Princess was taught. She didn't know any healers in the area, nor in any of the surrounding areas. She wasn't afraid to ask, not when she was wounded as gravely as she was. Okay, neither of them knew how gravely she was wounded, but it looked bad because of all the blood. Odette winced as the pain flared for a moment, but made no sound - instead she bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't know why she was trying to appear so strong and capable in front of the ex-knight - he obviously didn't care if she was strong or weak. He was taking his old duty - the one to protect King (or Queen) and country - just as seriously as before he had left. He'd help her, probably, no matter how she acted - yet she still tried to hold back.

"I... I don't know." He admitted, frustration in his voice. Her hope dwindled - what would they do? "Wait. There is someone." He added, after a few moments during which she had been trying to figure out a solution. "He's not a professional, but you're just gonna have to trust me." He told her. At this point, as long as they had the skills to keep her stabilized, it didn't matter. They could send for help from a secure location, but standing on the street - in the rain, bleeding - wasn't going to get them anywhere. His hand reached out and pulled the hood over her head again, shielding her somewhat from the rain. "You up for that, Princess? Because I don't think going back to the castle is an option right now."

Odette nodded. "Let's go, before I do something stupid like faint. I'd hate to make you carry me." She told him. He'd probably throw her over his shoulder again, and that had been quite painful - and would have been even if her torso hadn't been bruised by that man's boot. "Lead the way." Odette told him, gesturing slightly with the hand of her injured arm - the other was still pressing against her shoulder. She winced at the movement, and pain flashed in her eyes, but she made no comment.[/ul]

[Tybalt Lyon]

“Right now you're the man who saved my life. That's not 'just a face'.”

Okay, so he wasn’t ‘that rude ex-knight’ or ‘that man who had caused her lots of trouble.’ He was ‘the man who had saved her life.’ He supposed that was a step up. It made him sound more heroic than he actually was. He smiled sarcastically. “Ah, but if it weren’t for me, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place,” he reminded her, lifting an eyebrow challengingly. It was true to some extent. If only he hadn’t been at the bar, she might be fine right now. If he had just been able to hold back his curiosity and not rip the hood from her head, causing her to fall from her chair, causing all this. It was strange what one simple action could do, the chain of events it could create. He tried to stop thinking about it though. As he had said, what had happened had happened, and he knew better than anyone that ‘if onlys’ were a waste of time. Right now the only important thing was getting the princess to a healer so she didn’t bleed to death.

“Let's go, before I do something stupid like faint. I'd hate to make you carry me. Lead the way.”

Tybalt snorted. What? She thought she was going to be walking, did she? “If you think you’re walking,” he told her firmly, “think again.” He could see the pain in her expression. He could tell that she was trying to hide it, but it was still there. She might not be voicing it out loud, but he could see it in her eyes. Letting her walk would be a foolish idea. It would use up her strength and she needed all the strength she had if she was going to make a full recovery. She was a tough girl, he would give her that much. She didn’t crumple and cry, she didn’t whine and demand attention. Instead, she did her best to remain strong, even now that she was injured and bleeding. Was this really the girl that was rumored to be so weak and pathetic?

Before the princess had a chance to protest, Tybalt scooped her up into his arms, this time being more careful with her, or trying. His movements were still a bit rough, but that’s only because he wasn’t used to dealing with delicate women. He was used to dealing with sturdy swords and axes. He didn’t throw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes this time though, which was an improvement. Instead he held her against his chest, so that she was resting in his arms bridal style. With a quiet sigh, he ducked back out onto the street, stepping into the pouring rain. He felt the droplets sting against his face, icy and cold. It was coming down harder now, the storm worsening. Of course the damn rain had to choose today to come down. The day had started out without a cloud in the sky. Where the hell had they all come from? He cast a glare up at the heavens, and then he began walking. His pace was brisk, though he did not run this time. The place wasn’t far from here if he remembered rightly.

Tybalt walked down the street in silence, feet splashing in puddles made by the rain, boots covered in mud. He squinted at the signs on all the houses, trying to read the painted words through the rain. Eventually, he came to an old inn, a three story building that towered above the rest. It wasn’t in the best of shape, and it looked a little old and tattered, but it was the place. He recognized the sign that hung above the door. He just hoped that the old doctor was still living here, that he hadn’t passed away or anything. That would defeat the whole purpose of them paying a visit, and he wasn’t sure where else they could go. The ex-knight wasted no time knocking. He climbed up the entrance steps, taking them two at a time, and then barged in the front doors, pushing them open with his shoulder. “Help!” his deep voice echoed around the room, bouncing off the wooden walls. “I’ve got an injured woman.”

[/blockquote]

[odette]

[/i] He told her, raising his eyebrow at her. She bit back on any retort - not like they would have worked. He was right, and he knew it. Though there were plenty of scenarios that could have played out that would have resulted in her identity being revealed and the three men attacking her. And then she wouldn't have had a man that would have felt as duty bound to help her (maybe - he might have helped anyway) because it was partially his fault that she'd gotten into the situation in the first place. Thank goodness Tybalt was honorable. If he weren't, she'd probably have died on the blade rather than just got this shoulder wound.

"If you think you're walking, think again." She sighed, shoulders drooping slightly. She'd really rather not be carried. Okay, it was nice to have someone else to rely on, but honestly. She had two working legs and a heart beat - which was slowly pumping the blood in her body out of her shoulder (but that wasn't the point). The point was that she didn't want to be hauled around like dead weight, even if she did see the logic in it. At least walking would have given her something else to concentrate on rather than the pain of her shoulder. She opened her mouth to contest his statement, but - like both times before - he lifted her up without waiting for her to say anything. Odette knew he was stronger than her, so there was no use in fighting it. She'd just speed her heart rate up and pump the blood out faster. So, she was resigned to her fate of being carried.

At least she wasn't slung over his shoulder this time. That was a pleasant change. Her knees - hidden by the material of her dress - were hooked over one arm, while the other was at her upper back, leaving her head about level with his shoulder. Odette's sigh matched his own - though she hadn't heard his. Just because she was allowing it - well, not so much as allowing it because there wasn't much she could do to stop it - didn't mean she had to like it. She did have to admit though, that after a few minutes she was quite glad that she didn't have to walk. He'd set a brisk pace and she doubted she could have kept it for so long in her condition. It was kind of nice, in a way, to let someone else to do something for her without her having to worry about it. Because, really, at this point in time he could be taking her anywhere and she would be powerless to stop him. She trusted him though, based on his past.

Odette slipped into a light doze, her cheek resting against Tybalt's shoulder as he carried her through the rainy streets. She didn't notice that it had started to fall harder - she was just conscious of keeping her hand pressed against her shoulder and the rise and fall that signaled Tybalts footsteps. Odette flinched again at a stab of pain - this time from a breath taken too deeply which affected her chest. She knew - distantly - that this was a good sign. So long as she could feel pain she was fine. She wouldn't die. Once she was numb to even this, then she would truly have reason to worry - if she cared at that point. She'd heard from some who had been saved from that point that it was difficult to do, to want to live after feeling the cool nothingness. Odette knew she had too many obligations to just die off like this, though, so she knew that - if it were possible - she'd survive.

Finally, they traveled in an upward motion - steps, though she didn't see them. Her eyes were closed and her face was turned away from the view in front of her anyway. She did notice - though not right away, since her cloak was still quite wet - that the rain did stop, signaling that they were inside. "Help! I've got an injured woman." Now, while many other nobles would be offended at being called a mere "woman", she could care less. The very fact that she was the Princess was what had gotten her into this mess. She was glad he hadn't shouted that the Princess was the injured one - though that might have gotten a faster reaction.

Footsteps could be heard moving upstairs - one set fast moving, which were soon echoing down the stairwell and the other a good deal slower. The fast moving person emerged on their floor a few moments later, revealing a disheveled woman - from the looks of it she had flown from whatever task it had been she had been doing to run down the stairs - who was looking for the one who called for help. "We have someone who can help, if you'd only come upstairs?" She asked. Either he was busy setting up the room in which she was going to be cared for, or he didn't have the time or strength to get down the stairs at the speed they felt was needed to aid one who was wounded. Odette couldn't do anything about it - she just looked to Tybalt to follow the woman up the stairs.[/ul]

[Tybalt Lyon]

"We have someone who can help, if you'd only come upstairs?"

A woman’s voice echoed through the room, relief washed over Tybalt. They would help. He had been fearing the worst, that for one reason or another they would be turned away, but they hadn’t, not yet. As he raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time, he found himself praying that the doctor was a supporter of the princess. What if he wasn’t? Would he still help her? That was the reason he hadn’t announced who the woman he was carrying was. Maybe if he saw her, saw how badly hurt she was, he would help her, no matter who she was. The man had seemed kind when he had visited that one time long ago.

Tybalt followed the woman up the stairs. The man’s wife, he was guessing. He remembered her vaguely. He nodded at her, a respectful gesture, and then let her lead him up the stairs and down a long hallway. She was an older woman, rather slow, and Tybalt kept almost stepping on her heals. God damn it! Couldn’t she walk any faster?! She was moving like a snail. At this rate the princess would have lost all her blood by the time – Oh. They were here. Tybalt stepped into the room, the girl still in his arms, and his eyes rested on the doctor who was stood by the side of a bed. “If it isn’t you again,” he mused out loud, in a quiet and soft voice. “Another brawl in the tavern?” Tybalt hardly waited for the man to finish speaking. “Please help her. She’s been injured. Stabbed.” The man’s eyes widened considerably, and then he nodded, gesturing for Tybalt to lay her on the bed. The former knight did as he was told for once.

The man asked what had happened, and Tybalt hesitated, unsure what he should tell him. “Sir, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not sure there is time for this.” The man insisted though, and so an irritated Tybalt had to tell the story. It might be wise to be truthful, as the old doctor was going to find out one way or another when he lifted that hood off her head, unless of course, he didn’t know who the princess was. Even if he didn’t his wife would probably recognize her. A rugged sigh left his lips. Whatever. Even if the old man was a hater he was too old and weak that Tybalt doubted he’d be able to actually kill the girl. “You see, sir,” he began, and then proceeded to tell him of the events that followed, skipping over the part where he had rudely flung her hood off her head, rather just saying that ‘she had fallen off her chair somehow.’ The story probably wasn’t one hundred percent accurate, but he didn’t exaggerate. Well, not too much at least.

When he was done, the man nodded slowly, seeming deep in thought. His wife, on the other hand, seemed shocked at what had happened, horrified, and Tybalt swore that she was going to faint. “Y-Your majesty?!” she gasped, stumbling back a step. As his wife freaked out, the man began sorting through a box of medical supplies, very focused on what he was doing, not seeming phased at all. Had he even heard that she was the princess? Tybalt had no idea. He was a strange old man indeed. That didn’t matter though. The important thing was that he was going to help. Tybalt turned his head toward the blonde on the bed, watching her from the corner of his eye.

[/blockquote]

[odette]

[/color] The old man had spoke. "Please help her. She's been injured. Stabbed." Tybalt's voice came from above her, a deep contrast to the elderly mans' higher voice. Then she was being set down upon a bed.

She had enough control over her body to allow herself to turn her head enough to look at the three in the room - the woman was just barely in her sight. She didn't want to just lay there like an invalid, but there wasn't much of a choice there. Therefore, she'd at least force herself to be aware of those around her, so that she could keep up with whatever was about to happen. The old man asked for an explanation, even when Tybalt had expressly requested that he work on her shoulder. So, her defender told him the story of what happened - for the most part. She phased in and out of the telling as her mind drifted from the present to her imagination and back. As he got to the stabbing section, she did break in to add, "He kicked me in the chest, as well." Not that it sounded nearly as firm or well spoken as it did in her mind - it was a whisper as she continued to breathe with a bruised chest and speak through a clouded mind. It was a wonder she'd determined to tell that part of the fight at the right section!

Tybalt finished their tale - what an adventure this day had turned out to be! - the elderly man nodded slowly before turning to his tools. The woman, on the other hand, looked like she might fall over in shock. Her eyes were wide as she looked at the woman lying on the bed, bleeding into her sheets. "Y-Your majesty?!" The woman asked, as if she couldn't believe it, staggering backwards a step. Odette's head turned towards her slightly in response to her question. "Y-es?" She asked in return, as if the woman was merely trying to pose a question to her - rather than make a comment out of shock. Her shoulder was hurting still, but not nearly as much as it had before. That was a bad sign, right? She really didn't know; she wasn't a doctor. The doctor - the elderly man she had assumed - would fix her though, she was sure. At least, fix her well enough that she could survive until she could get somewhere else if needed.

The woman hadn't responded to Odette's question, she'd merely shook her head and leaned against the wall. Odette really hoped she wouldn't have a heart attack - the doctor would be forced to choose between the two of them. So, Odette turned her attention away from the woman - maybe she'd calm down if the Princess wasn't staring at her. She didn't notice that Tybalt was watching her as she looked to the doctor, who had out some scissors, and in his lap was a needle and some thread. Ugh, wonderful. She'd need to be sewn up, if that was any indication. The man moved to her shoulder, out of her line of sight, and Odette was torn between turning her head to watch him work or looking away. Better judgment won over morbid fascination and she keep her face turned from her bloody shoulder. "I'm going to cut away the shoulder of your dress, my lady." The old man spoke directly to her as he worked. Not that he'd get any complain from her - there wasn't much she could do about it anyway. And if the dress being cut into itty-bitty pieces were to be her salvation, then she'd help the man. A dress could be replaced.

Cool air was soon against her wound - and out of her sight the man shook his head slightly in response. It was obvious he didn't like the wound and he had to return to his bag for a few things, but other than that he had no reaction. Instead, he diligently set to work on her shoulder. Odette closed her eyes as he cleaned the blood away and began working at stopping the blood flow and sterilizing it. Once that was finished, he would take the needle and thread to her flesh and pull the skin back together, so that it would heal properly.
[/ul]

[Tybalt Lyon]

Tybalt watched intently, head inclined toward the princess, watching as the man began to stitch up her shoulder. The scene sent a few memories flashing through his mind. That had been a similar place to where he’d been injured a long time ago… Maybe that is why he had been so rough with her about it, saying things like ‘you’re lucky to still have your arm.’ It was true. She was lucky. Not everyone could be as lucky as her though. Without realizing it, a frown worked its way onto Tybalt’s face. The doctor seemed to notice it though, because he exchanged a glance with his wife, and then spoke up, telling the woman to show Tybalt to his room.

The old lady blinked a few times, seeming to come back to reality. “Oh! Of course! Where are my manners!” She turned to Tybalt and quickly offered a room, saying that because of the circumstances they would even offer it free of charge. Hm? Free? He supposed that would be useful. They really did need somewhere to stay. It didn’t look like the rain would be letting up anytime soon, and he doubted that the princess was fit to travel in such conditions. She would be weak from her wound, from the long day, and she needed some rest. A night of sleep could do her a world of good. Plus, a free room meant more money he could waste on ale. “Thank you for your kindness,” Tybalt said, bowing his head forward in thanks.

The woman took his hand, pulling him out into the hallway. Tybalt dug his heels in the ground for a second, looking reluctant, casting a backward glance over his shoulder. He didn’t exactly want to leave the princess alone, not after what had happened earlier… The woman saw the worry in his eyes though, because then she said, “No need to worry, dear. My husband may be old but he is quite skilled at what he does. Don’t you remember?” Tybalt rolled his eyes in response, mumbling a quiet reply, and then let himself be led away. He’d only be a few rooms over, right? He’d hear if they tried anything funny. If she was smart, which he figured she was, she would scream.

The woman opened a door, presenting him with a room. What? Why was it so small? He knew it was for free, but it could have been at least a little bigger than this! He sighed. Oh well, it would be best not to complain. He supposed it would do. Beggars can’t be choosers, can they? “This should be perfect for you and your lady!” the woman exclaimed from behind him. Huh? Both of them? They were sharing a room? But it was already so tiny… And hey, why was there only one bed? Wait. ‘for you and your lady’ HIS lady? What exactly did she mean by that? “No, I –” he began to protest, but the woman ushered him inside eagerly, saying how nice and cozy it would be, and how she had gotten the bath running for him and everything. When the hell had she done that?! He swore she had been standing with them in the other room the entire time… Oh well, whatever… He supposed a bath wouldn’t hurt. He was kind of cold from the rain, and it would be relaxing after such a stressful day.

The woman all but pushed him into the bathroom, thrusting a handful of dry clothes into his hands and then rushed out saying she would bring up some warm drinks later. He appreciated the kindness she and her husband were showing, but god… she was being a bit overly hospitable. Or, at least Tybalt thought so. Then again, he wasn’t used to having someone cater to his every whim. He sighed to himself. Well, at least the princess would like it. After all, she was used to people treating her like royalty.

Tybalt sighed, listening as the woman’s steps faded down the hallway, down the stairs, probably to the kitchen to start making some tea or something… Thank god. She was finally gone. Now he could have a few moments to himself, some time to think. He sighed again, breath coming heavier this time, and then started to strip the wet clothes from his body. A bath actually didn’t sound half bad… It might help loosen up his arm a bit, which was still a little sore from earlier.

[/blockquote]

[odette]

[/i] She heard her guardian say in response to the two elderly people in the room. He was pulled away by the woman, and she saw him glance backwards to her before letting himself be taken out. The one vaguely familiar thing in her world right now was dragged out by an old lady. Wonderful. The prick-tug continued, and she found herself staring at the blank wall trying not to zone out so that she was still conscious of what was going on around her.

It must not have worked, because it seemed like only seconds and the man was done with her, though it had to be more than that. Her arm was stitched and wrapped in some bandages. It felt like there was something sticky on her skin too, so there had been some sort of poultice put on her as well. Yeah, she'd definitely been out of it for a good period of time. Thank goodness nothing had happened to her - Tybalt would have probably felt guilty for letting himself be taken away. "How does your arm feel?" The man asked her, and she turned towards his voice slowly. "It's kind of sore... but it doesn't hurt as bad as it did before." She told him after a moment of thinking - and then another to string the words together to form an intelligent sentence. "How about your chest? You mentioned it earlier." She did? Oh, right. There was a dull pain in her chest area where she'd been kicked, and she told him so. "Don't get all bothered, majesty, but I'm going to place my hands on you." He told her easily, pressing on her rib cage gently. She winced when he got to where she had been kicked, flinching away from his hands.

He nodded to himself and continued, checking both sides. "Nothin' is broken or cracked. They're just badly bruised. You'll hurt for awhile, but after that you'll be fine." He told her finally after his check up. "You just lay here while I get my wife and she'll help you to your room, alright?" He told her kindly, before slowly shuffling out of the room. Odette turned her head to follow his progress out, keeping her eyes on the door once he was gone. Minutes later the woman reappeared and was at her side, carefully sliding her arm under Odette's back to help her up. Once she was on her feet she had a slight head rush - the blood wasn't used to being able to flow like that without exiting her body! - and they had to pause while she got her bearings. Then, slowly and steadily, the two women walked out of the room and towards whatever room Odette was staying in. A few doors down the hallway the woman paused and opened the door carefully before helping her injured guest into the room and onto the bed.

"I'll be back in a bit with some refreshments later, my lady." The woman told her before scurrying out. Odette sighed, before turning her head to look at her shoulder. Every bit of skin not covered by the dress was covered with bandages. At least it didn't look indecent - even if it was a bit odd. And she still had her cloak fully intact to wear over it, so that would be just fine. Odette reached up with her good hand to unfasten the cloak, letting it fall off of her and pool around her on the bed. It was a bit too warm to be running around in a cloak indoors. Then, after a few moments of more dithering, she decided she wanted to go wash up - at least her face and hands - before the woman returned with whatever food and drink she'd mentioned before leaving.

Now, if she had been in her right mind she'd probably have noticed the faint sounds of splashing on the other side of the closed door that led to the bathroom. However, she was lucky enough to manage to get to that door, much less worry what was behind it - besides the water she was looking for. So, after taking a short break to rest against the wall, she opened the door without hesitation and strode in. Okay, maybe not 'strode'. Her movement was kind of wobbly, almost as if she were drunk. Well, her head did hurt - but wasn't that for a hangover? That came after the drunkenness. Okay, whatever.

She didn't expect anyone to be within the room, nor for it to have a bit of clothing on the floor. Clothing and unsteady feet are not a good combination. Odette stumbled over the cloth - completely unexpecting it to be there. She hadn't thought she needed to look down at her feet - it never even crossed her mind. Her arms flailed as she tried to catch her balance as she staggered across the small room, only to trip over another object. However, this object wasn't clothing or anything small like that. This was a bathtub. It stopped her flight across the room, but it also made her fall down.

Right inside of it.

So, you can just imagine her confusion. There were clothes where there should be no clothes, and a full bath where one shouldn't be full. The woman had made no mention of a bath in the room. And, to make matters worse, there was a person within the tub. Odette was scarlet with embarrassment - or as scarlet as her low red cell count would let her be - as she tried to remove herself from the bathtub and whomever was inside of it. She had a sinking feeling she knew who was within, but she didn't want to contemplate it.[/ul]

[Tybalt Lyon]

Tybalt had finally settled into the water. A sigh left his lips, this one sounding more content than tired, as the warm water washed around his body. Just as he started to relax, however, the bathroom door opened. He opened one eye at that, thinking that maybe it was just a draft blowing open the door, but then he heard the sound of footsteps. Eh? He sat up a little, lifting his head. Was that old lady already back? Didn’t she know he was bathing?

Crazy bitch. What was she doing? He didn’t need drinks in the tub! Tybalt turned his head, about to say something to her, tell her to give him some privacy, but before he could get any words out something came flying right toward him. He didn’t have time to react, time to move, and suddenly something was upon him. There was a loud splash, and water went flying everywhere, nearly drowning him in the process. Out went the warm bath water, flying from the the tub in all directions, sloshing onto the wooden floor. What the hell was going on?! An ambush? Who the fuck would ambush someone while they were taking a freaking bath? The former knight quickly realized it was not an ambush though, because the person in the tub with him was…well…the princess.

There was that awkward moment where neither of them said anything, where all he could do was stare at the person in the tub with him. For a moment, time seemed to stop. What the FUCK? What was going on? Why was she in here? What was she doing? What on earth was she thinking? Countless questions raced through Tybalt’s head in that moment, but he couldn’t form any of them into words, too shocked at what had just happened. Was this a dream? Was he imagining this? Maybe he had dozed off in the tub, lulled to sleep by the warm water, and he was having some bizarre dream. A dream about the princess bathing with him. But that would mean… What the hell?! No! He would NEVER dream something as vulgar as that! This wasn’t a dream, this had to be real.

But if it was real, then what was going on? Was she trying to sexually assault him or something, creeping up on him while he was in the bath? He stared at the soaking wet blonde girl in disbelief, an odd look on his face. No. That couldn’t be it… The princess wouldn’t… Well, he didn’t think she would… Suddenly a light bulb flickered in his mind. It must have been that old hag! Yes. That’s what was going on. She’d sent the princess in here, hadn’t she? That would make perfect sense… It was all her damn fault. Dirty old woman.

Tybalt tuned back in after that, the reality of the situation sinking in. The princess might be wearing some clothes, even if they were sticking to her wet body in unusual ways, but he was wasn’t. He was naked. This thought seemed to occur to him for the first time, and his usually pale face suddenly flushed red, an unusual look for him. Right now it didn’t matter why this girl was in the bathtub with him. She needed to get out. Now. Coming to his senses, Tybalt tried to move away from her, pressing his back up against the edge of the tub. “W-What are you doing?!” he shouted in bewilderment. “G-Get out already!!!” He gave her a shove, trying to get her away from him, trying to throw her out of the tub. She was wearing some stupid dress though, and it kept getting caught around his feet, so pushing her around didn’t work very well, and the more he tried to shove her, the more the dress became tangled.

This was definitely the most awkward situation he had ever been in. He didn’t think he had ever been this embarrassed in his life. He had felt a deep humiliation when he had been removed from the Knight’s Alliance, but this was different. It was still humiliation, but of a different sort. This was the kind that made his heart beat fast and his cheeks turn red. This wasn’t shameful, this was just downright embarrassing. It wasn’t as if he’d never had anyone walk in on him before while he was bathing. It’s just…well…they’d never actually dove into the goddamn bathtub with him!

[/blockquote]

[odette]

[/i] like that. There was no way to describe the embarrassment of the situation she was currently in, except to say "it's like falling into a bathtub with someone else in it." Because that was it. There was nothing quite like the experience she was currently having now, and she could honestly admit that she had never, ever in her life considered the fact that she might, at some point, accidentally fall into a bathtub (full clothed) on top of a man (naked). Nope. Never.

The water went everywhere. Not just up and over the sides of the tub. No. Everywhere meant just that. It was up in the air, on the walls, all over her and Tybalt, and the floor was absolutely soaked. She thought she had been wet from the rain, but no. Now she was wet. Her clothing felt heavy and it clung to her in an annoying way. Not to mention whatever clothing that was on the floor was drenched as well, rendering them just as useless. There was absolutely no way to salvage this situation. None, not one, zero. She had idea how she was going to be able to look Tybalt in the face after this little accident. Because that was exactly what this was - an accident. She hadn't realized Tybalt was in the bathroom of the room she was in. That was a whole 'nother matter she was going to have to broach after they weren't in such an embarrassing, compromising situation.

"W-What are you doing?!" His voice was loud as she tried to move away from the stupid tub that he was in. Only, her dress got in the way of that little ploy, trapping itself around him. "G-Get out already!" He ordered her. Like she wasn't already trying to leave! "My dress..." She panted, after getting a lungful of the offending water. There was absolutely no way that she was leaving the dress behind so she could leave the room. No way, no how. Sorry. She had a little more decency than that, thank you very much. Odette's face was turned away from the man who was pressed up against one side of the tub, wishing he'd just stay still for a few seconds so she could leave and let him do whatever and she could figure out what to do with her sodden clothing. Oh man, and her shoulder. It was wet - she'd probably need new bandages or something.

"Stay still! I can't move!" She yelled at him - still turned away - frustrated with herself and the article of clothing that was being most unreasonable. Finally, after what seemed like literally an eternity, her dress was freed of his feet. She was surprised, actually, having not expected it to give way, and she fell backwards onto the floor, jarring her chest. Gasping for air through bruised ribs, she tried to unsteadily get to her feet. Blood loss and rushing were not useful. "Sorry, sorry!" She said, turning her back to the male who was sitting in whatever amount of water was left. She wasn't going to check and see. She staggered out under the weight of the dress, barely remembering to tug the door shut behind her before collapsing on the floor next to it, gasping for air.

Odette could feel her cheeks burning, could hear the blood rushing through her head. That was so embarrassing! Never had that happened to her. Why in the world hadn't the woman informed her that Tybalt was in the same room? Had she just forgotten? Odette rested her head against the wall, shivering slightly in the soaking wet garments. The water had been warm for a few moments, but it had quickly cooled against her skin. But she had nothing else to wear - not like she could get out of the wet garments by herself anyway. Not in this condition. She was not going to wear her cloak and nothing else, in any case. She barely managed to tug her long knife off of her belt, as it was digging painfully into her side. She dropped it on the floor with a clatter, leaving it within reach - much good as it would have done her. She did not want Tybalt to come out of that bathroom any time soon, though she knew it had to happen eventually. And when he did, man oh man, was it going to be awkward.[/ul]