FicWad

.........

As well and good as it is to find our first clue to the location of this godsforsaken vampire's daytime lair, we can do nothing tonight. The vampire is still at its most strong, and we are shaken and injured. We must wait for morning, and attempt to sleep.

Though it seems that first I must trust myself to Samuel's care. He is pacing back and forth, brow furrowed, as we wait for the innkeeper to return with hot water and soap. I sit silently, holding a scrap of cloth near the wound to fool Samuel but I am not actually touching it. I don't dare touch it. There is a slow and creeping desire to put my nails to the wound, and if Samuel were not in the room I might be weeping with terror. As it is, I must hold onto my calm.

The vampire has gone. The bustle around the inn has frightened it off for now. When it attacked, the innkeeper's son woke from a fevered dream screaming, and nearly the whole town was roused. Not the best atmosphere for a vampire.

Nevertheless, I know, should I sleep, I'll have the most terrible nightmares.

"Merrin," Samuel says, interrupting my thoughts.

"What is it?" I reply. My voice comes out a great deal more weary and pained than I had intended. Samuel is at my side instantly, lifting my chin so he can get a better look at the wound on my neck.

"You haven't been blotting it," he accuses, though he sounds gentle. He grabs the scrap of shirt from my lax hand before I can get a strong grip, and brings it to my neck--or he would have, had I not violently knocked his hand away and retreated further onto the bed.

"Leave it alone!" I order harshly. Samuel's eyes have gone wide, and his mouth hangs open on whatever words he had been prepared to say. I give a trembling sigh and hug my knees to my chest, letting my head fall for a moment. My hair gently drifts along the wound and I sit bolt upright again, shuddering, tasting something sour in the back of my mouth.

"What's wrong?" Samuel asks. I have to strain to make out the words; he has gone so quiet. "Does it hurt that much?"

I will not tell him the truth. I don't claim to understand it, and perhaps it's another piece of the vampire's power, but a feeling of shame strong enough to make my entire body quake sweeps through me whenever I think of explaining, of asking for his help and understanding.

"I should have remembered that they can hypnotize people," Samuel mutters. He turns away, and I can feel that the guilt is nearly pouring off him. I close my eyes, give myself a moment to gain my composure, and give voice with a harsher tone than before.

"It wasn't your fault." I dare a movement, and then another, until I am standing in front of him and seeking to catch his eye. I lay my hand on his shoulder and he leans into it, seeming to take comfort from one simple touch. When he turns to smile at me, his eyes sparkling with something that's not quite the same as his usual bright humor and cheerfulness, I feel my breath catch. Something is different, now. Something fundamental and important.

But there is no time to think over it and chase it down; the innkeeper is pounding at the door. I move aside and Samuel jumps to let him in.

"Torches have been set out--" the innkeeper begins, and Samuel cuts him off politely, but with a sure dismissal.

"Yes, of course, we'll see to this creature in the morning. Please let us get our rest; I'm sure it's gone for the night--" Samuel keeps up a steady stream of soothing words as he literally pushes the man out the door, taking the bowl of water, the bandages, and the soap before the innkeeper can even realize what he's doing.

Watching him set these things on the table is hell enough for me, knowing that he will soon demand I sit down and allow him to tend to me. There is no possible way I'll be able to sit still and silent while he washes the wound out, and equally no chance that I'll be able to do it on my own. I'd likely kill myself in trying, as the desire to rip the wound further won out against my reason. Both shame and fear are roiling in my stomach, making me ill.

At last, and far too soon, Samuel turns to me. "Merrin?"

Go to any one of the hells, Samuel. Take your pick.

"Merrin, come here. Let me wash that out for you. I promise to be gentle about it." His tone is actually wheedling, as if he were talking to a small, frightened child. If I didn't feel so much like one at the moment I would beat his head in.

"I told you that I want you to leave it alone." I even manage to say it without too much shakiness. Samuel, in true peasant fashion, seems to have missed my weakness entirely.

"Well, come here and wash it out yourself, then," he says. I shake my head violently and find that I've wrapped my arms around my body, to try to hide the fact that I'm trembling.

Oh gods, someone help me.

"It can't hurt that much," Samuel says brusquely, but he can't hide the worry arcing through his voice. "You have to get it washed and bandaged--"

"Shut it, Samuel!" I nearly yell. A sob catches in my throat, all unbidden, and I put my hand to my mouth and lean forward, dizzy and close to vomiting. A momentary blackness fills my vision and I can hear the vampire again, crooning our names in the night, and I fight the looming nightmare with all the strength I possess. I rear back, blinking past tears--and when did I begin to cry?--as Samuel starts towards me, gaping in shock and fear.

"Don't touch me," I gasp, taking another step back. The ribbon around my hair is growing loose and I freeze. I mustn't--I have to--

Samuel's eyes are bright with emotion. "I won't. I won't touch you. I promise you, Merrin, but you're going to clean that wound out immediately. Understand me; you can't let it get infected;. You're supposed to be making certain I last through this knight-hood experience, isn't that so? Merrin, I won't touch you, but you must wash that damn thing out!"

Throughout his little speech, he has stepped closer to me, and I've taken compensatory steps backwards. I rest against the wall now, my breath coming so hard and fast that the back of my skull has thumped the wall several times.

"Merrin, listen to me!" he pleads, and reaches for my shoulder. I give a despairing cry and dart to the side, but he brings his other hand out to catch me. I duck back and his hand collides with my neck, smacking into the wound.

My vision, momentarily, goes red. Because I know Samuel doesn't make the sound I hear next, and because there is no one else in the room, I have to acknowledge that I am the one who has moaned like one dying, but in the purest of pleasure. I know Samuel doesn't make that sound because I hear his gasp, and the deep shock that lay within it.

Coming back to myself, I am resting against the wall in a state of sublime relaxation. I let my head fall onto Samuel's hand and shrug beneath it, pressing his hand more firmly against my throat. My eyes half-open, I can see the horror in Samuel's face, but there's no room in my mind now for shame.

"Merrin," Samuel whispers. He starts to pull his hand away and I gasp; a sensation that should have been pain is spreading in aching waves from the edge of the bite, which his hand is rubbing against.

"Merrin," he says again, his voice even weaker. He touches my face gently with his free hand, then takes my chin to lift my head. Staring at me with a deep and loving sort of sorrow, he slides his hand slowly from my shoulder and winces when I whine, closing my eyes and breathing harder. When I lift my own hand, meaning to finish what he inadvertently began, he catches it in his own and brings it to his lips.

"Please," he says. I start to close my eyes but he has caught my other hand, as well, and brings that one to his lips. "Merrin, please."

When I open my eyes again, unable to ignore his pleading, he smiles at me and slowly backs away, leading me carefully back to the table. I walk like one in a dream, allowing him to seat me at the first chair and laying my head back when he presses his hand to my cheek.

He doesn't say anything, just gently begins to inspect the bite, ignoring whatever sounds I make. When I reach up to press his hand against the wound he again catches my hand and touches them to his lips, which calms me, inexplicably. He washes and dresses the wound, wrapping it best he can, but there is no way to wrap it lightly. After the third pass, I think, my body gives up, and I am dragged into the darkness I fought against.

.........

When the sunlight finally calls me from the endless blackness that was my dreams, I find that I've been tied down during the night with some very thick, heavy ropes. Oh, no; never mind. Samuel is just laying half-over me.

I peer down at his arm, which lies over my chest and is bent at the elbow so his hand can curl around my side. He's on his side, with one leg lying over one of mine and his face tucked in towards my neck. I can feel him breathing, but the bandage that I've just realized is on is keeping the wound from reacting.

It isn't giving me anything but pain now. I never thought I would be so eager and grateful to be experiencing pain.

"Samuel," I say, struggling under his hold. I push his shoulder and even pinch his arm. "It's morning."

He mutters something and tightens his hold on me, which causes me to frown. Samuel is always up and moving in the morning. He's the kind of person who is both awake and ready at dawn and doesn't seek his bed until after midnight.

In short, he's a nuisance. And he's acting in quite the strange manner right now.

"Samuel? It's dawn," I say again, managing to heave his arm off of me and flick his ear. He mumbles again and opens one very sleepy blue eye, looking up at me with some confusion. I look down at him and feel annoyance, affection, and concern welling up in me all at once.

The idiot's eyes are bloodshot. He didn't get more than a few winks of sleep last night. How are the two of us supposed to hunt down this vampire, with Samuel in this condition?

I suppose I can spare him another half-hour or so, and question Patience on my own. With any luck at all, she will have some answers for me... and there will be few places one can find violets around here.

Samuel has already fallen back asleep. While that in itself is a good and fine thing, he happens to be trying to pull me back down with him. I manage to get away from him after a bit of maneuvering and a pillow shoved under his seeking arm.

To my surprise, breakfast has already been laid out for the both of us. The innkeeper must have had it brought up just before sunrise. It's an unspoken criticism that we aren't out there now looking for that damned creature.

I scowl but choke down some of it, anyway. I'm going to need all my strength today.
After breakfast I quickly change my clothes and pull my hair back. I don't have time for a real grooming session; I have to talk to Patience before she gets sent out on errands.

As I stroll into the kitchen, the one I'm seeking looks up from a conversation with a young man who, from the look of his attire, is supposed to be out in the stable right now. I feel somewhat embarrassed that I'm interrupting something private; shouldn't these matters be a little less in the open?

But to the hells with sensibilities; this is important. Besides, I don't think that much of myself to give a stern lecture to a young man and woman looking to the future.

"Merrin! Was there something I neglected to bring you?" Patience asks, twisting her hands around each other and casting one half-agonized look to her young man.

Then her eyes dart to the bandage on my neck, and I restrain an urge to set up a cruel remark. Let her wonder. And if she decides to go beyond all bounds of polite society, then I will treat her in kind.

"Patience, good morning," I say, my nature allowing for a cheerful greeting despite my more heated thoughts. "Do tell me where you go to pick those violets. Are there many places around here where you can find them?"

Patience again exchanges a glance with her young suitor; perhaps they share a brain between them. Then again, I likewise should be turning to Samuel for wisdom. Part of the bargain between knight and servant is that the knight always takes responsibility for solving any sort of puzzle.

It's a situation that wouldn't appeal to Samuel, if he knew what I was up to in his absence. Fortunately for the rest of us, he is asleep.

Patience twists her hands around again and tries to get a hint of my thoughts from my expression, but she isn't quite clever enough for that. "I can only find them on the north side of the river," she says finally. "I don't know why, but they grow best over there. Perhaps because the snow on the mountain plants have taken over everywhere else, and we villagers don't like violets in our gardens. They look much too plain next to roses and the like."

I nod, thanking her politely, and restrain myself to walking upstairs. Let Samuel sleep to midday. We only have one area to search for a vampire's lair!

.........