Thread: Opposite Ends ( Ava & ForeverMischievous )

Just as Lady Lock was ready to throw down the gauntlet and head to the sweet sanctity of her own beckoning bed, one more person had to appear. The men held up arms as the woman dropped to her knees. In silence an arm was waved and the men went at ease on the poor sight. The pleas of a woman upon her knees with the weak body of an unconscious male in her arms. Eyes were red and bloodshot and in Holtest garb, she dawned. Covered in blood, that Ava could only assume was mostly not her own. The sight was a powerful one. Clearly there lay a bond between the two, for a woman to give up her freedom for the life of another. Not only was there one, but two. If the two were as attached as they seemed.... she could not break them apart. Holtests or not. One could see the war waging within the noble woman's eyes. Defeat was inevitably shown. Escort them both to my room. Carry him. Lydia, bring some things to my room. Even the head housemaid threw pity to both her mistress and the duo that showed up. Up the stairs, the raven haired maiden wandered and down the hall to the last room untouched by any blood or sickness or Holtest. The fire beneath her mantle licked at her exposed flesh. Bringing warmth to her body that Ava had not even realized that she was lacking. The lavished linens atop her bed were pulled down and a chair was pulled up on either side of the bed. The portly woman that was Ava's right hand entered with a warm bowl of water and warm rags for dressing wounds. M' Lady... you need not do this... A hand was raised to silence the female as the woman soldier was escorted in. Sit her down on that chair. Clean up any wounds she may have and lay him on the bed. It was when he was brought into the room that she realized just how bad he was. The look of a man who would most likely deny any help, were it not for the woman who had brought him in. Relax and let the lady do as she is told. She instructed to the female Holtester while looking over the man upon her bed. Like all the others she skillfully removed his shirt and jacket. What on earth.... She whispered to herself. As pale as a ghost. Bleeding from several puncture wounds. Not a single major artery was touched. Today is not the day to bleed to death. A finger raked along each side of his ribs and her eyes ventured from his face, to his hands, to his feet for any response that would mean pain. His pulse was faint, but there. His heart pumped blood fresh from his wounds and in a tandem of hands and orders she pressed mashed herbs to the wounds and then wrapped them in gauze. No doubt the dressings would have to be changed throughout the night. Lydia went about checking the female that had accompanied him. You will remain no prisoner within these walls. Nor will your life be forfeit. It was too soon to question whether or not her male companion would make it through the night. A hand rested upon his wrist. What looked like an admirable gesture was simply to keep track of his pulse. The rhythmic beating and her overtaxed mind and body rocked the woman to sleep. In the chair on one side of the bed, she rested. Head resting upon the soft edge of the bed, with his wrist still in one hand. Black locks splayed upon the bed top at his side as the guard kept watch over her. No hair was to be harmed. Throughout the night some people left, of their own free will. Deemed healthy enough by one of her own people, of course. Many at the breaking of dawn. Ava was untouched. Left to sleep in the chair pulled up to the side of the bed. Lydia was up early, as usual and silently wandered the room and checked on her mistress as well as the Holtests that occupied... or defiled... the very room she lay her head.