Disclaimer: The author of this fanfiction does not, in any way, profit from the story. All creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).
Fairy Tales: rose woven
by Pout
Chapter 3: The Doctor's Patient
Noin waited patiently all morning. The sun had risen, finding the impromptu nurse warily dozing in the corner furthest away from the potential escaped convict. When noon rolled around, the stranger was still unconscious, but Sally had yet to make her appearance. Letting out a defeated sigh, Noin sank down into the brittle hay that was her seat and imagined what horrid scenes would have been played out the night before at the manor. The Madam would not have been negligent with her switch. Sally would be black and blue and likely very bloody when she showed up.
The raven-haired drudge let her mind drift, bitterly surprised when it flitted to memories of better times: the bluest of blue skies, cloud watching, a time when she had laughed and smiled from her heart and had been convinced that the world was made of sunbeams and rainbows. Shaking her head admonishingly, she pushed the history away and focused on the new life she had come into. To say she had ‘made it for herself’ would have been wrong, would have been cruel even. She did not particularly enjoy her life as a slave, and seeing her friend take beatings from the lady of the house was neither pleasant nor fair. But life was seldom fair. She ran a hand through her cropped locks and trembled as emotions ran through her.
The man in the hay groaned and shifted causing Noin to start. As she stood up to take a closer look at him, the door behind her slowly creaked open and weary feet shuffled across the threshold. Noin looked up and cringed.
Sally was absolutely pallid. The blond maiden cracked a wry half-grin, which was as much as she could have managed. “She was not happy to see me,” she whispered, for it hurt too much to breathe more than that. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. And it looks like I’m going to have to start heading back soon anyhow.”
“Let me see your back. Did you bring the salve?”
“Of course,” Sally replied as she gently let her shawl drop and her shirt peel off from her bloodied back. Pulling her shawl up to cover her exposed front, she let Noin tend to her lacerated back.
“Didn’t anyone look after you last night?” Noin asked. “They still look raw.” She touched one of the red welts and frowned when Sally hissed and pulled away.
Sally gave a puff, a sorry replacement for a laugh. “Got locked up.”
Noin shook her head angrily. “We should have just left him.”
“Don’t say that,” Sally said weakly, though her tone of voice conveyed her convictions.
“It wasn’t just for staying out late, was it?”
Sally puffed again, and winced in pain when Noin began to apply the disinfectant salve. “I guess not. Maybe it had something to do with my calling Isabella a dog’s mother.”
“I doubt it was worth this, Sally.”
“Actually, her face went livid. I don’t know; it was kind of fun seeing her imitate a goldfish.”
“Honestly, Sally.”
The wincing girl changed the subject. “So, how is our patient?”
“Your patient,” Noin corrected, “is as he was last night. He hasn’t woken up since, though his fever has gone down a bit.”
“Did he say anything else in his sleep?”
“Not a word. Who do you think he is?”
“He kept saying ‘Quatre’ last night,” Sally mused.
The other woman laughed outright. “Don’t tell me you think he’s a prince.”
“How many other Quatres have you heard of?” Sally scowled. “Maybe he’s not a prince himself. Maybe he’s one of the prince’s guards or something.”
“And when he wakes up, he’ll be so grateful, he’ll fall in love with you and sweep you away to a better life, right?”
“No, he’ll take up arms and help me dethrone my evil step-mother.”
“Very romantic notion, Sally.”
“We’ve had this talk.”
Noin waved it off. “He is handsome, I guess.”
“I guess?” Sally asked wincing and arching an eyebrow simultaneously.
“I’ve seen better,” Noin remarked offhandedly, blinking when she realized exactly what she had just said.
Sally’s eyes widened and she was about to demand an explanation when the stranger began to rouse from his sleep. Noin went to tend to him as Sally slowly hobbled over, holding the shawl up around her chest. “He’s waking up.”
* * *
He felt groggy and disoriented, as if he had been slammed up against a brick wall a couple thousand times. His muscles felt cold and numb. A first cautious attempt at opening his eyes resulted in an influx of sunlight too painful to deal with, so he squinted them closed again. That’s when he heard the voices: two females, and close by.
“He’s waking up,” he heard one of them say. Was he really waking up? He hoped not. Something told him that he would not like the surprises that came with consciousness.
“Hey, you,” the other female said cautiously. “Wake up now. Come on. Open your eyes.”
“Noin,” the first voice reprimanded. “Don’t just order him to wake up.”
“So I should shake him or something, too?”
“No! Just let him wake on his own. We don’t know how long he was stranded there, or how long he might have been in the water. He probably doesn’t feel all that well, I’m guessing.”
“Perceptive, Sally. Really.”
Before they could continue their easy banter, he decided it would be best to assess his current situation, meaning he would have to open his eyes. Letting them slide open slowly, he caught glances of two concerned faces between the blinking of his lashes. By the time his pupils had adjusted to the light, he had already evaluated his caregivers, if indeed they were caregivers and not captors.
The one closest to him was a dark haired girl. She looked a bit afraid of him, but also had the lines of worry etched on her face. The other was clutching a ratty shawl over her chest and looked almost as bad as he felt. Her arms were liberally covered with angry red lashes and her face was utterly pale. Her locks were tied hastily, a small amount of blood having dried onto the blond strands. Their garb told him they were people of low class standing: servants or peasants at the least.
He opened his mouth to speak but ended up coughing instead. The dark haired girl knelt by his side to help him as he struggled to sit up. She patted his back as he continued to hack away. He coughed in earnest, feeling more and more lightheaded with the action until at last his lungs settled down and he sat there trying to get the world to stop pitching and rolling.
“Feeling better?” a voice asked and he turned to see the blond girl staring down at him intently. “You don’t look too good.”
He took a long moment to process the statement, and as the other girl seemed about to say, ‘Well, maybe he’s slow,’ he managed to reply, “You don’t look too good yourself.”
The girl stepped back in surprise and subsequently flinched as her body protested the sudden movement. It was then that the blond seemed to realize that she was technically topless and subsequently blushed from the roots of her hair to the tips of her clenched fingers, fingers that clutched nervously at her loose shirt. “Turn around!” she ordered. All the sympathy and concern had abruptly left her.
The other girl chuckled with him as he turned his head around to face the shed wall. He listened to the sound of cloth swishing, then a muffled cry of pain before the dark haired one clucked her tongue and went to help. After a few more minutes, he was finally allowed to turn around. The blond was settled on the ground beside him, now fully dressed but arching her back cautiously, and the other girl was standing by the door. “I’m going to go get some water from the well,” she said, “Scream if you need me.”
Scream? The man found the implications of that statement rather amusing seeing as how he could barely sit up on his own let alone attack the only people who could help him.
The blond leaned over and felt his forehead and he vaguely heard her declare that his fever still had not broken and that she’d see to getting some herbs for a tea. He began to feel lightheaded again and after a few moments, he found that he was suddenly falling backwards. The girl had to scramble to catch him in her welted arms, and he could tell it hurt her back when she moved too quickly so he really did feel very badly about that. However, by the time she had laid him down in the hay, his eyes were already closed as he dreamed about a boy with light hair and blue eyes.
* * *
He slept all day and through the night. Every once and awhile, the older girl would wake him up to pour a bitter tasting brew down his throat. By dawn the next morning, his fever had broken and was gradually dissipating. When the blond showed up, he was awake and aware of his surroundings.
“So, how are we feeling today?” she asked.
“I feel much better. Thank you. How are you?” He noticed that she still stood painfully straight in order to keep her shirt free from her back.
She seemed slightly taken aback by the question but answered anyhow. “Same as always, I suppose.” He wasn’t quite sure what to do with that. “Are you hungry?” she asked. He nodded. She turned to the other girl and said, “Bring some of that bread over here.” The one who had stayed with him all night handed him a portion of the bread and a bit of cheese to go with it. “There’s not much. The old witch has been watching the pantry,” the blond said to the other girl.
“Did she try to whip you again?”
“No. She was too busy entertaining her guests,” was the reply coupled with a full roll of the eyes. She turned to her patient and shoved a cup of the bitter tea in his hand. “Drink up. You’ve still got a slight fever.” He nodded and drank obediently. When he handed her the empty cup, she looked at him with a generous smile and bright, curious eyes. “So, who are you exactly?”
His green eyes stared back unwaveringly as he answered: “I don’t know.”
* * *
“Great. What do we do now?” Noin complained. The two girls stood by the door of the shed conferring in hushed tones.
Sally looked perplexed. “I don’t know. I don’t have any herbs that fix lost memory.”
“What if we hit him over the head?”
“What?!”
“Well, when Frederick slipped on that wet rock down by the creek and hit his head, he forgot who he was for a while, then the second time he slipped, he knocked his head again and then he was perfectly fine.”
Sally let out a frustrated sigh. “The man’s lost his memory, that’s all. His brain is still in the right place.”
“Are you sure?”
“Noin!”
“If you’re sure...”
“I’m sure!” They looked back at the man with no name and discovered that he was watching them. They flushed and turned back around. “Ok,” Sally continued quietly. “He’s lost his memory. If we just give it some time, it’ll probably just come back on its own.”
“What if it comes back and he remembers that he’s a murderer and decides to kill us?”
“You are such a pessimist!” Sally hissed.
“And you’re being too naïve!”
“We’re not gonna knock him over the head.”
“Fine. But if he kills me while you’re gone-”
“Noin!”
“-you’re gonna regret it.”
“Are you done?”
Noin nodded.
* * *
He watched as the two girls walked back over to him and seated themselves a little over an arm’s length away from him. They sat in silence for a moment just staring at one another before the blond took a breath and said decisively, “I’m Sally. This is Noin.”
He nodded respectfully. “Sally, Noin, thank you for all you’ve done for me. I’m sorry I don’t have a name to offer in return.”
Sally pursed her lips. “Well,” she began hesitantly, “the night before last, you were calling for someone named ‘Quatre.’ Does that sound at all familiar?”
He considered it for a moment before shrugging uncertainly and shaking his head.
“We found you on the beach. You washed up with a plank under your arm. Do you remember if you were sailing? Maybe you’re a sailor. Can you remember being at sea?”
Flashes of black waters and a fiery vessel flitted through his mind like blades of grass on the wind, slipping through the grasp of his mind before he could properly place them. Again, he shook his head.
“Well,” Noin said, “do you remember if you’ve ever killed anyone?”
“Noin!”
They spent another third of an hour trying to prod his memory into reactivating with no results, after which Sally declared that it was time for her to return to the manor, taking Noin back with her as well. “The Madame will notice if she’s gone much longer. We’ll come back tomorrow to see how you’re doing and bring you some food. When you’re feeling better, we’ll sneak you into our old servant quarters. The Madame sold off some of our people so those rooms aren’t in use anymore. No one will notice you there and Noin and I won’t have to trek so far to see you.”
He nodded and expressed his deepest gratitude for everything they were doing for him. Noin smiled slyly and quipped: “Now, you keep that in mind in case you get the urge to murder one of us.”
Sally rolled her eyes and added: “And remember, if you do plan to murder one of us, I was the one who thought to pull you out of the water in the first place. She would’ve just left you there.”
The two young ladies continued to argue even as they walked out of the shed and started on their way home.
* * *
Four days later, just as the sun slipped out of sight, three figures huddled behind a row of bushes that hedged the manor.
“It’s about supper time so everyone is heading inside. Sally and I have to go wait on Madame and her girls.”
Sally nodded as she picked up her skirts to head inside. “Basically, when you hear her hollering about more bread or more salt, then the coast is clear. Remember, don’t let anyone see you.” He nodded and she took off for the house.
Noin added, “I’ll open the window when they’re all seated. Here’s the key to the rooms. One of us will bring you something to eat later on.”
He took the key and pocketed it. “Thank you.”
Noin shook her head. “Not at all. Sally and I still can’t agree on your new name, but I’m hoping tonight she’ll break. Goodbye, Jack.” With a wave, she dashed across the orchard to the house.
‘Jack’ leaned with his back against a tree and prepared to wait. It had been days since he was rescued by these two silly girls. They had nursed him back to health and made arrangements for him to stay at their manor, an effort that he knew would get both girls into considerable trouble if someone found out about it. He was eternally grateful.
The two had been arguing over what name to call him by for the past few days. Sally was partial to names like Christopher and Pierre, while Noin seemed to favor plainer names like Will and Adam. Last night they had come to a shaky compromise with either Peter or Jack. Of course, Noin preferred Jack while Sally was hell-bent on Peter, so he was still nameless, though he now responded to both Peter and Jack depending on who was talking.
He spotted a baby rabbit making its way slowly through a row of cabbages. He watched as it nibbled and sniffed and hopped about. The animal was still young, indicating that the mother should have been close by, however he couldn’t spot a parent anywhere.
The window to the dining hall slipped open just as a shrill voice called out for more salt. Though it was dampened by the distance between the manor and where he stood waiting, the demand was nevertheless clearly discernable. He was impressed that anyone could scream so loudly on a regular basis. Not wasting any time, he darted out of the brush and headed for the servant quarters where he would be staying. On his way, he passed by the cabbage field momentarily and coaxed the little rabbit into his hands before sprinting the remaining distance to the shelter.
It took a moment to get the key to turn, for the lock was well rusted, but eventually the door swung open to his temporary home. He closed the door behind him and headed for the back room as he was instructed to do. The room was angled away from the manor so that he would be able to light a lantern without anyone being aware of his presence unless they were out on the grounds. Of course, the Madame and her daughters never roamed their property so that wasn’t a problem.
He pushed open the door and looked into a moderately sized room that showed signs of use and age. There was an old mattress in the corner and a lamp beside the door that still had a bit of oil left in it. Setting the little rabbit on the floor, he lit the lamp and let the room fill with the light of a small flame. He peeled off the coat he was wearing which the girls had pilfered for him and set it down on the bed. In the opposite corner, there was a chair and table, both of which rocked slightly on uneven legs. Other than those meager furnishings, the room was bare. He decided it suited him fine and bent down to pick up the rabbit.
He set the creature on the table and stared into his little black eyes. “You shouldn’t eat other people’s cabbages,” he admonished in an unpersuasive tone. He tapped its ears and it took a small hop towards him. Picking the bunny up, he took the few steps towards the bed and sprawled down on top of the old mattress, settling the little rabbit on his stomach. He decided to rest his eyes for a few moments.
Later, when Sally knocked quietly on the door to his room and received no answer, she pushed the door open a ways to find her patient, along with a little, furry, gray rabbit, sleeping in the corner. As she approached, the rabbit stirred, waking the man from his slumber. Startled, his eyes flew open and he almost bolted upright before remembering the little animal stirring on his shirt.
“Sorry to wake you, Peter,” Sally greeted quietly as she set a tray on the rickety table and came to kneel beside him.
He glanced out the window and noticed it was considerably darker than it had been when he had first entered the hideaway.
“It’s been a few hours,” she answered his silent question. “I would have come sooner, but the old witch had us running all over the place. If I am correct, and I usually am when it comes to the Lady of the house, she’s probably got Noin preparing her a new bath as we speak. Five degrees below scalding or she just won’t have it. Come now and eat your dinner. How on earth did you come by this rabbit?”
He placed the white fluff ball on her lap and rose from the mattress. He examined the modest tray carrying his first proper meal since waking: some bread and cheese, a small bowl of rapidly cooling soup, some peaches and an apple. “That’s the last good apple, so enjoy,” Sally said as she seated herself on the mattress he had just vacated, calmly petting the silken fur of the little animal. “Hello there, little one,” she said quietly to the creature. It twitched and struggled half-heartedly to escape her embrace before settling down to be coddled.
As he ate, Sally talked to him and the rabbit about anything and everything. He learned that she was the single child of a very happy marriage which had come to an abrupt end when her mother died of a severe illness the winter before her sixth birthday. She had lived in the manor with her father and the attendants for some very peaceful years until the Madame had ensnared her father through obviously unnatural means and tricked him into marrying her, that evil witch (for it was plain to see she was evil). After a year of tense circling and hissing between herself and the witch (and the witch’s daughters), her father had set out on a business expedition only to meet an early end at the bottom of a ravine. Since his unfortunate end, Sally had been forced to live under the cruel thumb of his second wife, her step-mother, who treated her as one might treat a very dirty stray dog.
Through the years, she had learned how to manage her step-mother. She had a number of minor actions which she performed daily as motions of rebellion against her oppressors, from rotten apples to conveniently forgetting to inform the Madame that she had guests. After so long, Sally had become a master at manipulating the Madame’s underestimation of her adversary to get her own way. Using her skills, Sally often managed to steal hours at a time to do as she pleased.
She explained that the day they had found him, she had “taken the day off” in order to collect some herbs. She told him of her interest in medicine and in botany specifically. Chattering on animatedly, she described the rich variety of natural fauna that grew in the vicinity. For each plant she named, she gave a brief but educational lecture about its preparation and uses. It was halfway through one of these short lectures that she turned to see that her guest had long since finished his meal and was sitting there patiently, listening attentively even.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” she apologized while blushing madly. “I didn’t mean to ramble like that. It’s just that Noin never listens when I start talking about medicine and since you didn’t stop me I just… kept…” She sputtered off awkwardly. When he remained silent, Sally gathered her wits and finally stood, went right over to the table and set the bunny on his lap. “Right. Well, I’ll just be going now, Peter. Noin will bring you breakfast. Goodnight.” And with that, she picked up the tray and walked out the door before he could respond.
Left blinking in her wake, ‘Peter’ looked down at the equally oblivious rabbit and shrugged.
* * *
Outside, Sally closed the door quietly and dashed off towards the kitchens. As she began to clean off the tray and dishes, carefully erasing any evidence that she had stolen an extra meal, she felt her cheeks burn in embarrassment. She cursed herself for being such an immature fool and mentally ran through the entire conversation (if one could even call it a conversation, considering how Peter never had a chance to speak) and cringed at how idiotic she must have sounded sprouting out such blather as she had so effortlessly done. Surely, he now thought her to be some silly little girl who simply did not know when to shut her mouth. She growled in self-irritation and slipped off to the room she shared with Noin hoping that her friend would provide some comforting words to rebuild her now demolished self-esteem.
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