This little piece was when the plot bunnies were lurking last night and bit me. So, it's short and sweet and wouldn't go away until I wrote it lol. Enjoy.
It Will Rain
It's raining outside. Earlier it had been so loud out there, lots of things going on. It's always like that. But now, it's quiet, except for the sound of the rain. I can just imagine the dark clouds looming above. I close my eyes and rest my head against the cool stone wall behind me. The rhythm of the rain helps me finally to relax.
He probably doesn't notice the rain. It's just as well, he's had a long day. I open my eyes and look down at him in worry. He looks so pale in the firelight, but at least he's stopped shivering. Perhaps listening to the rain isn't a good thing anymore; it reminds me.
I curse myself for the millionth time, I should have seen it earlier. If I am the one they look to for leadership, then what kind of a leader neglects to see the very thing which nearly cost his best friend's life? And the rain didn't help, in fact it made it worse. By the time I did notice...it was because he was coughing so hard he couldn't breathe. What kind of a leader am I?
As if that wasn't enough, we couldn't go home in peace. But at least he wasn't hurt, I would never forgive myself for that. I look down over his shoulder at my wounded arm draped lightly across his chest. The sling is still around my neck, I should take it off.
He stirs slightly in my arms, shivering again. I gently pull him closer, trying to keep him warm beneath my cloak. Dark brown eyes open, just barely visible, looking up at me; his head resting on my shoulder. "Arthur...shouldn't you be resting in your room as Tristan said?" he whispers hoarsely.
I smile slightly, "I should, but I'd rather be with you." He reaches out from under my crimson cloak and lightly touches the bandage on my arm.
"Some pair we are, wounded and-..." he starts but his body shakes suddenly in a fit of coughing and he can't finish. I gently rub his chest, trying to calm him. But this is why I am here and not in my own room.
When it's over, I feel his warm forehead against my neck. He breathes hard, hoarsely. I sigh, wishing I could take this away, and rest my cheek against his soft, curly hair. "It's over now," I say to him quietly, "Go back to sleep...shhh..." But I never stop rubbing his chest. Just like a child, I observe.
A hand reaches up, catching my own. I smile as his eyes drift shut again and the grip on my hand lessens. I don't think I'll sleep tonight. No..not when I have something to guard over. But in the quiet, my mind wanders into the deep, endless oblivion of darkness. What would I do if I didn't have this? What would I do if I failed him?
My mind wanders down paths I wish it hadn't. I picture many different lives, pictures I never hope come true. But then I stop. I listen again to the rain. We are both here, perhaps not in the best of conditions, but we are. I let my eyes close and finally fall asleep, curled in the corner of his room, on top of his bed, holding him in my arms.
Tomorrow things will be better now that we're home again. And tomorrow it will rain.