... But Never Taint My Love

Althea felt the coolness of damp towel against her forehead before she had strength to open her eyes. She suddenly shivered in the cold of the room around her. When she opened her eyes, she saw Durai above her. His face changing from worry to explosive relief in an instant as he said, "Thank God."

Her eyes slowly started to focus through their sleep-filled haze. The light was incredibly low in the room; she couldn't tell if it was very early or growing late. Then she smelled rain and heard its beating against the windows. It could be any time then, she thought. She saw the large chair pulled close to her bed with comforters, blankets, and pillows. She wondered if Durai slept by her side that night.

Durai grabbed Althea's hand in both of his. "I'm sending for food immediately. I won't be more than a moment." He rushed away before she could answer. When he came back, he found her trying to sit up in the bed. "Here, let me help you. Slowly now, I've got you." He gently raised her with his arm on her back and placed pillows to support her. She was still very weak.

"What time is it?" she asked with a very dry throat.

"More like what day is it, my dear. You've been asleep for three days." She could see the days and sleepless nights filled with worry on his face. She was in shock. She had no idea how much damage was done to her to warrant a three-day Healer's Sickness. She was terrified that she had gone too far at that moment, and more concerned still that she had not gone far enough.

"Baldrik?" she asked in a whisper. Durai's eyes clouded more in unfiltered distain. Durai was quite angry still with Baldrik over striking Althea down, especially in her state, and he couldn't hide his feelings. But Althea's weak eyes pleaded for knowledge, so Durai said with a sigh, "He is doing quite well. You are truly gifted, and I am so impressed. The Queen is also, and both are most grateful. He is having a nearly normal day with only minimal stiffness."

Althea breathed a sigh of relief at the news and leaned back some against her pillows. She had done more than she ever had before. And it was enough to get him through without her for a few days. Then she looked at Durai's face that showed a mixture of disapproval, pride, and admiration. "Did you stay here for all three days?" she asked with the best flirtatious smile she could muster to break his tension. And he seemed to lighten his expression...for a moment.

"Althea, that was too dangerous. I'm not saying that I'm not whole-heartedly impressed, but..." he faltered trying not to come across harsh. "Althea, I confess I wasn't sure you would ever come out of...whatever this was. I was...I was so scared, Althea."

Althea reached out her hand to hold both of his. "I'm sorry to worry you, but I had to try." Durai's face almost looked as though he disagreed. "It's called a Healer's Sickness," she continued to try and explain. Not many people knew the intricacies of the Healer, and the Sickness was even less known. "A Healer's body is not normally stricken down in illness or injury, and even if we do, we can fight it off much faster than others and hardly know it. But there are times when we get too far gone with an ailment that we go into, well, like a sleep. Our bodies in essence shut down and channel the Healing Magic of the earth around us to be the Healer for the Healers. We cannot cure each other; the magic of a Healer won't work on other Healer's bodies. We have to cure ourselves, and this is how."

Having the practice explained to him didn't ease Durai at all. No matter its name or its purpose, Durai only knew that the woman he cared for was almost lost to him. She almost disappeared even within his embrace.

And he wasn't going to let that happen again.

Just then the door opened, and Mireya walked into the room and walked with almost childlike excitement to her bedside. "Althea! When I heard the order to the kitchen, I came running! Bless that you're awake!" Caring nothing for stuffy regality, she pushed Durai aside and fully embraced Althea. "Thank you, oh thank you! I was so worried, but thank you!" Mireya had wrestled hard with her guilt at her brother's improvement at the cost of her health. But the sight of Althea's crossing into stability and consciousness broke forth a flood of damned up emotions that she felt the giddy dance within her heart of the faeries of legend. Althea embraced her back weakly but whole-heartedly.

"Now as for you," Mireya started as she turned to Durai, "it's time you got rest in your own room, you doting hen. No but's! She's safely awake and getting stronger by the second; I can see it. So, I will watch over her now and tend to her needs. Besides, she needs a bath and washing, and that's not for you to do," Mireya added mischievously. Only a fool would fail to notice their feelings towards each other, and in her delight, she felt like teasing. The blush on both of their faces was adorable, she thought. Durai hesitated as though he were going to protest despite her orders not to, but Mireya was on him within a second physically pushing him towards the door. "You're no good to her exhausted. Get some sleep!" she hollered to him as she closed the door shut behind him.

Mireya turned around and started walking back to Althea and saw her smiling at the amusing scene between the two. It always pleased Althea to watch the two interact like schoolyard friends. She admired greatly Mireya's seamless blend of commanding authority with personable charm. Any ruler would dream to be so gifted.

Mireya sat at the chair beside Althea and took a sterner tone. "That was reckless. In saving my brother, you almost went to the place there is no returning from. I can't say I'm sorry you did it." She paused at saying the words and looked deep within herself after she said them. "I guess that's what it is. I'm not sorry you did it, and I am angry at that. It's wrong. I shouldn't … I shouldn't be so willing without guilt to cast you against the wolves again." Mireya didn't bow her head or even lower her eyes. This shame was hers, and after Althea gave so much, she deserves the respect of looking her in the eyes.

"But you aren't asking me." Mireya flinched as if in pain at the sound of Althea's weak voice. "My Queen -"

"Mireya. You call me Mireya."

Althea smiled with as much joy and enthusiasm her state could muster. "Mireya," she started feeling a warmth in her heart saying the words. "This is my purpose, my birth calling. I am the protector of the lights in all hearts. I am the soldier against the extinguishing darkness and the suffering that snuffs out the light. Your brother's light is most brilliant, and will keep it going. I will do battle with the darkness for his continuing light. Otherwise I defile the very blood in me. I turn my back on my mother, my grandmother, and those who battle with me. This is who I am; this is who you cannot stop me to be."

Mireya looked after her in the silence left by Althea's words and could feel Magic alive in the air of the room. She had never seen from the Healer's perspective. She saw it now, and she knew all the thanks in the world would never be enough.

The two ate together in Althea's room and talked as if they had been friends for years. Mireya helped Althea out of her bed and even took to washing Althea herself instead of leaving it to attendants. This woman deserved Mireya's full devotion, and Mireya gave it to her freely and gladly. Mireya even brushed Althea's hair which she had secretly been dying for an excuse to do since her arrival. Unlike Mireya's fair hair, Althea's was so full and wavy it was almost alive. It was like a witch casting a spell, if such a thing ever existed long ago.

….........

Durai fretted and tossed in his useless attempts to sleep in his darkened room. His mind refused to slow to rest as it was tossed in the tempest of base emotions of worry, anger, and even rage. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Althea stricken to the floor by one so ungrateful. His mind ventured down roads so dangerous and imaginings so horrible in its disturbance that he saw Althea's death, he saw his empty life without her, and he saw revenge he wished to have despite his rational mind pleading for sanity.

Rest would not come, and light would not enter the room that sunset. Focused study would tame a passioned mind, and he pulled books with blackened covers from far removed shelves. The night was spent away in secret study of mystics untouched and unseen for generations.