Faerhild lies in the bed, pale as milk, her face decorated by a thick layer of sweat and a collection of violet bruises. She trembles in fever, although it is evident she is awake as she hums an ancient lullaby. The one they sing to children to ward off death during nights. Her voice trembles in the tunes, although she seems persistent on continuing. Perhaps afraid of dying.
Ethelweard moves from his spot, realizing that someone else was awake. He trembles, cold from fear of sending smoke through the chimney. With a hum of his own, he takes his cloak off and walks over to place it on her, "No need for death songs. No one else is dying."
Faerhild opens her eyes, to stare at him darkly, her face twitching at the constant sensations of pain that come in waves. She continues to hum the lullaby for a moment longer while she holds his gaze, before letting out a ragged breath of air and a whimper, "Uhh..Hh...I am not planning on dying.... Not here." She forces a smile on her colourless lips, but it seems stiff and it shivers along with the rest of her body.
Ethelweard forces a grin on his face as he goes to take her hand, "There we are. A painful smile, fitting of the times. 'Tis better than death songs. Aye, if I was in the right setting, I'd try to sing a merry tune of horses canting in fields. Instead, I leave you my dark humor in hopes it cheers you up some."
Faerhild opens her mouth to sing, a trembling fragile tune in between ragged breaths. Her voice is even under the strain fair and clear, "Galloping wild in the... dead of night....the horse made of wind...bringer of....lighht." She pauses her singing to cough violently and frowns in pain, squeezing her eyes shut briefly, before opening them to look at him again with a light grin "...Your turn.".
Ethelweard chuckles, squeezing her hand a bit, "Alright.". His voice deepens as he continues, "Into the East, they hail; In pretty moonlight, so pale. 'Lo Eastward, bring us the sun; For sun's warmth, we seek fun. Oh Moonlight, can't you see? It is the Sunlight, we wish to be." He pauses in case she wants to continue.
Faerhild observes him with a silent smile, a flicker of warmth in her pained eyes. Her breaths come heavy and uneven. Even her smile is filled with suffering, although for some reason she fights to hold on to it, whispering, "..hh..Continue.."
Ethelweard nods, continuing his song, "Bring us light to play all day, and bring us feelings warm and gay. Oh Moonlight, let us be; The wide grasses, we want to see. We seek Eastward, where the sun stays; Bring us the light for our gantering plays. The Moonlight paused over the plains, seeing with her eyes the horses' pains. Lo Moonlight, I will go . To see warmer times, in the daylight so. Sunlight you wish for and sunlight it will be. For plains, games, in the warm daylight to see." He pauses after finishing, letting her take in the song.
Faerhild coughs into her smile, frowning briefly in pain, before curling her cold fingers around his hand, her voice low and hoarse, "Thank you..." Her brow comes down as she considers him in thought, "...I seem to have forgotten your name." The fingers of her right hand rise to touch her bruised temple gently, "Were...you there?"
Ethelweard hums low in disappointment, "Nay, I was not. I was left to tend to the horses as you all went off. Ethelweard of Harwick is my name. Horse trainer and folawigend, well, to no one now. I suppose it's just horse trainer."
Faerhild draws in a ragged breath, letting out an equally shivering one, before nodding, "Faerhild of Forlaw, messenger of The Reeve and a scout to her....." She twists in pain, before managing ton finish her sentence, "...Her...Captain." She sighs, as if it had been awfully exhausting to manage those words, "Whho..hh...Who carried me.... to...the horses?".
Ethelweard says, 'It was a woman that dragged you to me. She did what she could to your wounds, but she left us. I don't recall her name.'
Faerhild frowns in confusion, although nods subtly. "Yes...I know she went....She thinks...he is mad." She turns her face subtly to glance at Regnwald who laid unconscious on his bed.
Ethelweard looks over at his former captain, "I can't say as I was not there... What happened? If you can recall, of course.
Faerhild frowns in thought, 'We were...noticed. That was the moment...when we should have retreated...but we pursued....I can not remember much ...They were many...and we so few...' She grunts in pain, "I told him we needed more men...I thought he lead a large band of warriors.'
Ethelweard raises his brow in concern, "The survivors of Stangard must be doubting him now. He was loved in Stangard, but his failure seems to be getting into his head now." He shakes his head, "I told myself I would not hate him after finding out that my wife did not survive, but now? Did we stir up the wasp's nest again?"
She looks downward, 'He is blinded by his past, seeking atonement... even through death....Although it is a war against time, the Captain should not lead his men into a battle they can not win...Perhaps he is too young to lead, and too proud to listen.... To listen to the winds and the scout... Too eager to take....a moment....to think and ask, and plan....The best leaders are humble...' Faerhild coughs, her face wrinkling in pain, "Never...underestimating the enemy." Her eyes narrow in sorrow, "Or so said my trainer.", until they close shut.
Ethelweard says, 'Can I get you anything?'
Faerhild shivers silently for a moment, before opening her eyes again, "Hhh....Maybe water....even if I doubt... I can hold it within." She grins in dark humour, "It never hurts to try...they said...but it...hurts.... to try....You just try nonetheless, because giving up is not an option, no?"
Ethelweard grins, "If I gave up training a horse, we'd never have any to ride. What kind of Eorlingas would we be then? Aye, I will bring you some water."
Ethelweard manages to find something. He gives the waterskin a quick sniff, making sure it was water, before turning, "This is a setback. It's painful and unsuring, but what does not kill you makes you stronger, or so I've heard."
Faerhild squirms some backward, her expression filled with pain as she attempts to raise to sit against the bed's end. A row of pained groans and heart shattering whimpers accompany her efforts. She pants after managing to sit, as if it had been the greatest effort in her life. Her pale trembling fingers reach for the waterskin to bring it upon her chapped colourless lips for a cautious sip. Her eyes close as she wishes for the water to remain inside her., 'I think...that is a lie.'
Ethelweard looks at her, "Aye?"
Faerhild opens her eyes to offer him a grin, 'Aye..... 'Even if I survive I think.... my father and my brother will forbid me of....this life.'
Ethelweard says, 'I would say that there's Stangard for a new Wolf's Head, alas, I cannot even make light of that.'
She looked off into the space, 'I promised them...'I would take the blame...of their escape....saying I lied to them that I had the permission of the Reeve to set them free.' Faerhild glances at Regnwald, her eyelids hanging low due to exhaustion.
Ethelweard scratches his head, "None of us can really go back to Forlaw then."
Faerhild looks at him, appearing nothing but confused, "I will never abandon Forlaw......I will rather accept the most painful of all punishments than.....turn my back at my home...'I did this....knowing the price....and I will pay the price.' She sighs, 'Even if...we gained little.'
Ethelweard nods, "Very well, then. Let's make sure you are standing before facing your own death. Wouldn't want to be killed, lying in bed, would we?" He grins for a moment before realizing it was a bit too dark.
Faerhild lets out a huff of air that could be read as a chuckle, followed by a pained smile, "No...we would not...It would not be...very gracious."
Ethelweard says, 'I am sorry that you cannot go home with your honor intact. Had I known this would have happened, I would have taken your place.'
She smiled lightly, 'It had to be someone...with the keys....hh...And don't worry Ethelweard, I value...hhh.... my Captain and Forlaw above my honour.'
Ethelweard says, 'He must be one of the best then.'
Faerhild simply smiles, although her smile is washed away by yet another expression of pain.She draws in a slow breath, before attempting to take another sip of the waterskin.
Ethelweard says, 'Easy there. Don't make yourself sick.'
She smiles bitterly, 'Oh..if you could feel this thirst.'
Ethelweard says, 'Never ending?'
She smiles tiredly, 'Well,hhh... I'm trying....to end it...should my body allow it.'
Ethelweard looks around the room, "I should probably try to find more, but I would hate to leave you all behind in case the orcs find us."
She forces a grin, 'In case they would find us.....it'd be better for you to not be here.' Faerhild rests the back of her head against the wood.
Ethelweard says, 'And let you all die painful deaths without me?'
She groans in pain, forcing a brief smile, "Hh...Painful deaths....are overrated."
