Bedside Manner

The world was a haze, my senses were a mess which only made every passing second feel disjointed. My body ached, not in sharp bursts but in a dull, heavy way, as if I'd been crushed under the weight of a mountain.

Somewhere in the haze, hands gripped me, they were firm yet careful. My groggy mind barely registered the sensation of being moved. I was vaguely aware of my back scraping against the rough fabric and my legs dragging as I was shifted. There was a voice, soft and insistent, murmuring words I couldn't make out. Morgana's voice? I wasn't sure. It didn't matter. The world darkened again, pulling me under as though I were drowning.

I came to again, and this time the world was warmer. The ache was still there, but something else had taken its place—something comforting. My arms, weak as they were, were wrapped around something soft, warm, and above all else, alive.

My eyes fluttered open for a moment, just long enough to catch the faint glow of morning light slipping through drawn curtains. I realized with a start that I was tangled with Mara, my face pressed into her back. She wasn't wearing her usual robes. Instead, her lithe frame was clad in a simple set of undergarments, practical but still… distracting. 

I basked in the feeling of flesh on flesh as I realized I was nearly nude. My stomach was against her back, my head against her neck, her hair a mess as it tangled around my face, but I was fine with that. I could feel my left arm under her neck, it was so warm and comforting. My right arm lay over her side, right in the crook of the curve that transitioned from her hips to her stomach. It took me a moment, but I realized I was cupping her breasts with that same hand, not in any sexual way, but there was a desperation about it, as though I wanted to hold on to whatever I could, to feel security in my grasp.

Facing away from me, I could feel her hand on my wrist, keeping me there, telling me it was going to be okay. It wasn't the overly familiar, peppy Mara I was used to. This was a different kind of closeness, one that felt more maternal and protective. I wasn't just lying there; I was clinging to her like a drowning man to driftwood. The realization filled me with embarrassment and joy, but in the end, I was too tired to care.

I tried to speak, but my throat was dry, and no sound came out. Mara stirred slightly, her grip tightening for a moment before loosening again. Her breathing was slow and even. For the first time since I'd met her, she was completely still.

The warmth of her presence and the steady rhythm of her breathing lulled me back under, and the world slipped away once more.

The next time I opened my eyes, the sun was merciless, stabbing through the window and straight into my skull. I groaned, shielding my face with one hand as the other pushed me upright. My body felt stiff like I'd been lying here for days.

The room came into focus slowly: a modest inn chamber with simple wooden furniture and a single bed that looked far better quality than I had expected. I glanced down at myself, naked except for my briefs that in themselves seemed far too worn. Memories flooded into me from the last time I had awoken, I thought of how I had been moved from the floor to the bed, how I had clung so desperately onto Mara, but she… she was nowhere to be seen.

Panic flared briefly in my chest as I scanned the room. My mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of memory. What had happened? Where was she? Had something—

The door burst open, and Mara practically danced into the room, balancing a tray piled high with food and a pitcher of juice.

"You're awake!" she exclaimed, her voice bursting with excitement.

Her outfit caught me off guard. Gone were the robes and the gnarled staff. Instead, she wore a short pink skirt and a cropped white shirt that exposed just enough of her midriff to dispel my panic. My thoughts immediately shifted but I brushed them off as I glanced at the food and felt my stomach roar in agreeance. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, a few strands falling over her face, which was lit up with a wide grin. The whole look screamed bright, bubbly chaos, just as how I had remembered her.

I blinked at her, my grogginess turning to confusion. "Mara… what are you wearing?" I had a million other questions, but despite how hard I struggled to push my thoughts aside, I kept staring at her exposed stomach, how tight and refined her muscles were, how the fabric clung to her body, likely a size too small, but I wasn't complaining. 

She glanced down at herself as if she'd forgotten. "Oh, this? Isn't it cute? I bought it downstairs! They have this adorable little boutique attached to the tavern. You were out for so long, I needed something to do!"

I frowned, rubbing my temple as her words sank in. "How long was I out?"

"Two days," she said, setting the tray down on the small table by the bed. Her expression softened as she looked me over. "I was starting to get worried. You were burning up last night, muttering in your sleep. But you seem a lot better now!"

Two days. That explained the stiffness and the disorientation. I glanced at the food—eggs, some kind of cured meat, and bread that smelled fresher than anything I'd had in weeks. My stomach growled loudly, and Mara laughed.

"Eat," she said, pushing the tray toward me. "You're going to need your strength. Westwood isn't exactly quiet right now."

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Her grin widened, but there was a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Oh, I'll tell you all about it. But first, eat. You've got a lot to catch up on."

The aroma of the food was impossible to resist, and my stomach churned with hunger that had gone unacknowledged until now. I reached for the plate of eggs, spearing a piece with the fork Mara had so graciously included. It was warm, buttery, and seasoned just enough to make me momentarily forget about everything else.

Mara plopped herself into the bed beside me, shimmying over as her hips bumped into mine. She wrapped an arm around my waist, watching me with an amused expression as I devoured the meal like a man starved. "I take it you approve?"

I nodded, swallowing a mouthful of bread and cured meat. "The best thing I've eaten in… well, ever, probably."

"You're welcome," she said with a playful wink. "Though to be fair, I didn't cook it. Just carried it up here."

I grunted, too focused on the food to banter. The juice was cold and sweet, cutting through the lingering dryness in my throat. By the time I finished, the tray was practically licked clean, and I fell back hard against the bed, she barely pulled her arm out of the way before I crushed it as I lay back and rubbed my stomach, feeling more alive than I had in days.

"Okay," I said, finally giving her my full attention. "What's going on in Westwood?"

Mara fell back beside me, placing her head on my chest and her hand over the one I had placed on my stomach."It's been… tense. The guards are on edge, and there are more patrols than usual. And I overheard some travelers talking about holy mercenaries passing through."

"Holy mercenaries?" I echoed, my body tightening.

She nodded. "Yeah, apparently they've been sniffing around for someone or something. No one knows much, but they're not exactly subtle. Big armor, glowing symbols, the whole divine wrath aesthetic."

I frowned, my mind racing. Holy mercenaries weren't the kind of people you wanted to cross paths with. I wasn't exactly an encyclopedia of knowledge in this world, but I knew about the templars, that inquisition no one expected, there were lots of holy warrior-type figures throughout history, and few of them were good news. If they were here, it wasn't for a casual pilgrimage.

Mara must have noticed my unease because she leaned closer, her expression softening. "Hey, it's probably nothing to worry about. They're not looking for you, right?"

I hesitated, unsure how to answer. "I don't know. Maybe not."

She tilted her head, studying me with those bright, curious eyes. "You're not exactly convincing, you know."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "It's complicated. Let's just say I don't have the best luck when it comes to people with divine connections."

"Well," she said, standing up and smoothing out her skirt. "Lucky for you, you've got me. And I happen to be very good at dealing with bad luck. I'm basically a walking good luck charm, as you've probably seen already."

"Yeah, is that so? The huge group of wolves, the unconscious girl I damn near died trying to get back to town? That was good luck?"

"Absolutely," she said with a confident nod. "We saved a family! That's amazing, and on top of that, you finally realized that we are destined to be best friends, so I mean, if all of that wasn't worth it, I don't know what would be. It had to be nothing other than a stroke of good luck!"

I let myself laugh for once in too long. I wanted to disagree, I wanted to argue with her and tell her she was wrong, but what I felt the last two days, as she let me hold on to her, as she nursed me back to health, that was some pretty fantastic luck. Anyone else would have stripped me of my limited gold and left the next morning.

"And since you're feeling better, we can go check out the town. I've got a few things I need to pick up, and you should probably get some new clothes. No offense, but you're starting to look like a murder hobo."

I couldn't argue with her there. My armor was barely holding together, and my shirt was little more than a collection of bloodstained rags.

"Fine," I said, lifting myself up, and taking Mara with me as she refused to leave my chest. She giggled in surprise as we both ascended, which only fueled my happy feelings. My body protested, stiff and sore, but I pushed through it. "Let's see what Westwood has to offer."

Mara clapped her hands together, practically bouncing with excitement. "Great! This is going to be fun. Trust me."

I didn't trust her. Not in this way. I had to give in and trust her with my life, because I had done so, and she had proven trustworthy. Still, I wasn't quite confident in her decision making ability. But for now, she was my only ally, and I couldn't afford to go it alone.