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Chapter 19, The Hard Road

When Lunette awoke, every muscle in her body ached. Before she could even get her wits about herself, she faintly groaned from the burning pain in the center of her chest. Her limbs felt like lead weights. She slowly cracked open her eyes, glancing around the room.

She felt small, as if the ceiling were a mile away. It took her a moment to realize that the window ledge felt so high up above her head because she was on the floor. Her cheek was pressed to something warm, and she felt warmth against her back. Ahead of her, she saw Rain, looking noticeably worse for wear; she had two blackened eyes, and bruises around her neck, but she was sleeping peacefully with her head on Arvel’s shoulder. It was then that Lunette realized that her head was laying on Arvel’s shoulder, and his arms were draped around the two of them to keep them close.

Lunette looked down, seeing the bandages wrapped around Arvel’s middle, and realizing that her own arm looked thin beneath its white gauze wrappings. She lifted her arm, just a bit, to see a green arm wrapped around her middle, and she quickly identified the soft snoring sounds behind her as Fidget.

Arvel cracked a single eye open, and gazed down at Lunette for a moment, before closing his eye and slowly grinning.

“Good morning,” he whispered.

“What happened?” Lunette asked softly, barely able to muster any volume at all.

“We almost lost you,” Arvel replied quietly, “I’m sorry. Melodia was going to kill you, and it... it wasn’t something you’d come back from. So I killed you before she could.”

“...did she...?”

“She got away,” he whispered, “But we’re all alive, and that’s what counts.”

Lunette exhaled softly, and tucked her head down, resting against Arvel’s chest. His heartbeat was steady, and the warmth of his body felt comforting.

“Why are we on the floor?” she whispered.

His body shook gently with a chuckle, and he answered, “The bed wasn’t big enough to fit everybody, so Fidget decided to make the room into a den. Every blanket and pillow in the house is on the floor right now.”

“You didn’t need to...”

“You were cold,” he said, “and we were all scared we were going to lose you.”

“I still feel cold,” she whispered.

Arvel gently rubbed her shoulder, hugging her against his side, and asked, “Is that the first time you’ve died?”

“The third,” she replied, “The first time in... a long time. I don’t remember ever feeling this weak before.”

“Melodia sapped most of your strength even before you died,” he said, “But you’re gonna be okay. As long as you’re alive, you can recover, and we’re gonna help.”

Lunette bit her lip gently, and said, “You needn’t focus on me so much.”

“The hells kinda weird modesty is that?” Arvel asked, tilting his head to look down at her, “You want to get all protective of Rain because she’s a leader and people look up to her, and jump all over me for talking about not being a hero because the settlers want to call me one... And you got the gall to act like you’re not that important?”

Lunette looked up at him, surprised.

“You’re important,” Arvel said earnestly, watching her green eyes, “You’re important to everyone in this house and everyone at the camp. There ain’t a person around here who doesn’t look at you as someone strong and dependable. And maybe you’re not that strong right now... But good people don’t abandon the people they care about just because they need a little extra help.”

Lunette laid her head down again, her cheek warm and flushed against his chest.

Eventually, Rain and Fidget roused as well, and everyone but Lunette began to do their morning chores. In spite of their injuries and pains, by the mid morning, there was a basket of fresh eggs on the counter along with a few newly picked vegetables, a kettle of water hung over the hearth, and Fidget was already sweeping the living room.

Arvel wrapped Lunette in a blanket, and carried her into the living room to seat her at the table.

“Someone needs to go down to the camp and let them know everything’s alright,” said Arvel.

“I don’t think I should,” said Rain, “I look terrible... It will worry everyone if they see the state I’m in.”

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“Are you kiddin’ me?!” Arvel asked, scooting Lunette’s chair in, “What are you gonna do, hide up here for three weeks until your bruises go away? You’re bein’ a coward.”

“I am not a coward!” Rain shouted, before she began to cough, gently grasping her strained throat. She waited until she was able to suppress her cough, before taking the kettle from the hearth and pouring the hot water into a teapot, muttering quietly, “I just think it would unsettle them more.”

Arvel sighed heavily and asked, “Fidge, can you go?”

“Me?!” Fidget squeaked, immediately flipping her broom from a cleaning tool to a defensive weapon in her grasp.

“Yes you,” he answered exasperatedly, “You’re the only person in the house who isn’t injured. I’m not asking you to break bread with them or nothin’. But they need to know Rain and Lunette are alive, and recuperating.”

Fidget grumbled quietly, clutching the broom handle tightly.

“Hey,” Arvel said quietly, as he walked over to her. He knelt down in front of her, gently wincing as his abs flexed, before resting his hands on her shoulders and saying, “I know it’s scary. But you’ve been down there with me a bunch of times and nobody’s been mean to you.”

“But I’ll be alone,” she said quietly.

“And we’re right back up the hill,” he replied, grinning, “If anyone gives you trouble, you just come running right back up here and I’ll whack ‘em with a shovel.”

A sharp, toothy grin spread across Fidget’s lips at the mention of a mean-spirited human getting bludgeoned with a shovel. The twinkle in her eye told Arvel that she was already thinking about it in gruesome detail.

“Can ya do it?” Arvel asked.

“Yes!” Fidget responded, nodding.

“I really appreciate it, Fidge,” he replied, squeezing her shoulders and leaning in to kiss her forehead softly.

Fidget blushed under the tender peck, before grinning up at him.

“Take whatever you need,” Arvel said, “But you be nice to them too, alright? If I find out you started a fight I’m gonna be real mad.”

“Fidget won’t start any fights!” she replied, her eyes lighting up. She looked at the basket on the counter, before pointing excitedly, and shouted, “Trade!”

“Yeah, you can trade the eggs,” he said with a chuckle as he slowly stood up, holding a hand over his aching midsection.

Fidget dropped the broom right where she was standing and took off, running around the house to collect her makeshift gingham curtain ‘cloak’, a little pair of leather-soled boots that Arvel had made for her, and a bag to put the eggs in.

“You’re sure it will be alright?” Lunette asked quietly, clinging to the blanket wrapped around her. She did her best not to move too much, afraid she might not be able to right herself if she began to tip over in her seat.

“She’ll be fine,” Arvel said, going to the kitchen to take a few eggs out of the basket before Fidget could trade them all away. He grabbed a cast iron pan from the wall and carried it to the hearth, setting it down to warm; “You’re the one we all need to keep an eye out for.”

“I’m not in any danger anymore,” said Lunette.

“Well not like that,” he replied, “But your recovery ain’t gonna be quick. Melodia... she hurt you real bad before I got to you. And I wasn’t able to ‘save’ you, not like a hero ought to. I picked a real hard road for you to walk, so the least I can do is help you hobble down it.”

Lunette fell quiet, watching Arvel, trying to find her words.

“Fidget is leaving!” the goblin shouted as she ran out of the bedroom, her small boots thudding on the floor as she ran through the kitchen and grabbed the basket off of the counter. She sat her bag on the floor and quickly began to move each egg, one by one, into it.

“You travel safe!” Arvel said, waving to her as she grabbed up her bag and ran out the door.

“She seems overly excited,” Rain said quietly, sitting on the hearth and sipping a cup of tea.

“I know she seems like a little ball of raw nerves,” Arvel said, “But she got good reason for it. Hells, if she wasn’t so brave, I don’t think she’d have made it this far. The second she gets just a little bit of support to say that she can try something without bad consequences, she’ll jump right to it.”

“This happens often?” Lunette asked quietly.

“A few times now, while y’all were away,” he replied, “The chickens freaked her out a few times when she first started feeding them, mostly because she freaked them out. They kept tryin’ to peck at her legs and feet and she was ready to start kickin’, but I just told her to peck em back. So she’d give one a knock on the noggin with a fingernail and it’d run off squawkin, but it’d leave her alone after that. Now she’s the queen of the damn chicken coop, feeds ‘em every day, collects the eggs, even does the cleaning without an ounce of fear. And when it’s time to bring a chicken in for dinner, she got no problem grabbin one up and loppin’ its head off.”

“I’m not sure I could,” Rain said quietly.

“I’m damn sure you could,” said Arvel, “You know where your food comes from. I think you’d act all squeamish about it, and I’m sure you’d try to pawn the work off on someone else ‘cause you’re too ladylike for it. But if I told you Lunette needed food to get stronger and I couldn’t lift the hatchet right now, you’d go out there and hem and haw and complain about it, but you’d bring me a really sloppily beheaded chicken eventually.”

Rain shuddered at the mention of a ‘sloppily beheaded chicken’, before glaring at Arvel and saying, “I didn’t need you to go into such intense detail about how unreliable I am.”

“I didn’t say you were unreliable,” he replied offhandedly, “I said you’d be prissy about it.”

Rain clenched her teeth for a moment, then took a long sip off of her warm tea to soothe her throat, before she unloaded: “Not all of us were raised on a farm! This is all new to me and quite frankly I think I’m doing a fine job figuring it out, no longer than I’ve been in the situation. I’m not going to demand your praise but I believe I’m at least deserving of a little more grace and patience than what’s being given.”

Rain looked at Arvel, and saw him staring out the kitchen window.

“Are you even listening to me?!” she asked.

Arvel raised his hand to quiet her, and Rain bristled at the gesture.

“Hold on,” he said, eyes shifting over the goat pen, “Where’s Tim?”