32: The Descent

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It was the uneven sound of Blayne's breathing that invoked the tensing of her brows as she pulled them together, studying him from where she sat tersely on a chair by his side.

The room was eerily still except for the sound of his breath, ragged and sharp, with an occasional tight gasp that would pull him from his slumber with a flinch. Grey light angled through the panes of the window adjacent to the bed where Blayne reposed on his back in their chambers, the time indicative that it was somewhere around mid-morning- and Millie had not slept since he had been moved to their quarters.

She had tended to his wound as best she knew how- through sterilization and suturing- but a deep-rooted concern lingered heavily upon her chest, ringing nervous twinges from her heart, with each breath that expelled and hung in the still air of the room.

She considered him in pregnant silence, as she had been for the last several hours, and pulled her knees up to her chest to rest her chin upon them. Though she longed for nothing more than to crawl to his side and slide under the heavy coverlet that draped across the lower half of his body, Millie feared that any movement may cause further damage to the would at his side. Already, he had lost a substantial amount of blood and his bouts of lucidness were infrequent at best, yet whenever those molten eyes did flip open he would seek her out, his fingers stretching across the fine fabric towards her, her name whispered upon his lips. In those moments she did go to him, but only to soothe. She would squeeze his fingers, stroke his brow, coaxing him with gentle words and soft kisses back into unconsciousness.

The wound disturbed her- it seemed deeper than she could thoroughly assess. Spots of blood bloomed against the gauze pressed to his flank whenever it was changed, and though she had sutured the wound and stemmed the flow as well as she could, Millie suspected it wasn't enough.

Yet until a physician or doctor arrived, she could do little else. Her experience was limited, and any attempt to further assess the severity of his injury would be unwise on her part lest she cause him yet more harm. She had sent for her family's doctor, the man she trusted above all else to tend to these matters, yet she knew that London was some time away and his arrival would be delayed. 

A sense of quiet, steady rage had been building within her throughout the evening- rage that the simple means of healing her husband could potentially be at her fingertips yet was denied her for bureaucratic reasons that made little sense. She could hardly contrive of the thought that the man she loved beyond all reason, that some foreign god saw fit to mark her physically to signify that fate alone had brought them across two worlds to find each other, could ever be snatched from her almost as suddenly as he had been thrust upon her.

She shook her head, compelling the notion away as easily as it had entered.

Blayne was virile and strong- he would fight hard to remain on this plane of existence.

And so would she, even if meant-

The door to her chamber opening drew Millie's gaze and she studied her sister as she entered quietly.

Lillian's gaze lingered over Blayne as she moved towards Millie, a line between her brows the only suggestion of her outward concern. Then her vivid eyes found her sibling curled upon the chair, somewhat shadowed as Millie lingered near her husband's side. At the sight of her hunched over her knees, Lillian's eyes widened slightly.

"Have you washed? Eaten?" she demanded, her voice straining above a whisper so as to not disturb the thick and poignant silence that surrounded them.

Millie's lips pulled tight for a moment and she ran her hand over the side of her face, considering. She still wore the dress she had deigned to attend the ball in- now spattered and smeared with the blood of her heartmate- and her hand shook slightly from fatigue as she ran it through her tousled locks. "No," she said slowly. At length. "It does not matter."

Lillian looked as if she might disagree but for whatever reason she chose not to argue with her right then. Instead, she came forward and forced Millie to sidle to the very edge of her armchair, until there was nary a space between the side of her body and the armrest. Then Lillian squeezed her form in beside her, though clearly the chair was designed to accommodate only one person in it at a time.

It was a position that they would adopt often in their youth, deliberately antagonizing the other for a spot in the same chair a sister occupied until one of them either relinquished the seat or scooted over to provide enough space for the other. Millie's heart gave a small squeeze in remembrance and nostalgia of the girls they had once been, the youth that they had shared and the closeness that was hovering on the edges of their relationship.

"I was informed that Doctor Samuel will arrive within the hour," Lillian told her, shifting her shoulders from side to side against Millie's. The movement drew her gaze and something marring her sister's skin caught her attention and held it avidly. A network of scars lined the top of her left shoulder, disappearing into the neckline of the woolen gown covering her frame. More puckered the column of her neck, a few diagonal ridges whitened the crest of her breast until material covered her skin, effectively hiding what may lie under it. The sight startled Millie, made her conflicted by her own inability to observe her sister clearly the evening prior, yet she recalled the heavy cloak that Lillian had used to cover her flesh of her neck and shoulders, then the necessity of tending to Blayne had prevented her from fully studying the sibling she had lost for several years. 

It was certain within Millie's memory that no accident had befallen Lillian in this world to cause such wounds upon her flesh. 

That knowledge alone wrought a pained expression to flash across her face and tighten about her heart. 

Noting her gaze, Lillian shifted and suddenly drew closed the pelisse that hung open across her torso.

"Lillian-"

"We are not going to talk about me, Millie," she said firmly. "I am here now, aren't I? And in full health. I may have made the wrong decision to trust our cousin at first, but I am beholden entirely to you and for what I allowed to enter this household this past evening... it is entirely my fault. I was going to tell you that I will do whatever you need me to in the interim, until we figure all this out."

Millie averted her gaze and studied her husband once more, his chest rising and falling evenly for now. She knew the steadiness of his breaths wouldn't last, however. Though Lillian believed that it was her fault that caused injury that evening prior, Millie knew better.

It was hers.

Blayne had sustained a wound, a potentially mortal one, simply by being fated to marry her, to love her and all that she was beholden to. The beastkeeper who had doted on her, opened her eyes to a reality she had hardly conceived of before while simultaneously opening a heart she believed unchangeable, who willing sacrificed everything he knew and loved for her, was paying a price he did not deserve.

And Millie knew she could not jeopardise his life anymore than she already had.

She rested her cheek on her knees, hugging her thighs to her chest, and turned to look at Lillian steadily. "I think you should resume your duties of Ravensfield, Lillie," she whispered. "As the rightful heir."

Lillian's brows snapped together at that. "Millie, you know not of what you speak just yet."

"You are the oldest daughter, it is your right." She huffed out a tremulous breath. "You are better at this than I, it was always supposed to be you. Do you deny that this is what you want, that this is why you came back?"

"I didn't choose to come back, Millie," she snapped. Immediately, her expression softened and she swiped her hand across her brow as if to ease the tension that developed there. "What I mean is that there was hardly any choice in the matter. One moment I was there, and the next here. Who's to say it could not happen again?"

"We should not assume that it will. You are the first, and only, human known to make the transition. Regardless, the mantel is rightfully yours. If you do not take it up soon upon word of your return once it reaches London, there will be pressure from our alliances. Since I am married, and if Blayne survives-"

Lillian gripped her shoulder tightly, shaking her head with a brusqueness that caused Millie to swallow her words. "He will live, do not speak so morbidly."

She offered her a smile that only slightly moved the corners of her lips upwards. "Since we are married, we will retain the title in the interim until you are ready to claim it as yours."

"You mean," Lillian remarked dryly, "until I am married, too."

"Remind me to introduce you properly to Mrs Addilyn Holt and her faeborn matchmaking service," Millie returned with a crooked smile, nudging her sister's shoulder playfully. It was not lost on her when Lillian stiffened and shifted slightly away.

"You must understand, Millie, that if I were to marry, it certainly would never be... one of them." Almost reluctantly, her eyes darted to Blayne and Millie only just compelled herself not to take umbrage at her sister's words. From what Lillian had told her, she had received countless forms of abuse and neglect in the realm of the fae that no doubt would testify to her aversions to see them as kind and brave beings- the way Millie viewed Blayne and the other beastkeepers. As if sensing her thoughts, Lillian was quick to add, "I mean no offense. It is clear that your love for him, and his love for you, runs deeply and true. I am sure you would vouch for the nobility of his nature, but I..." She shook her head again and pursed her lips. "I do not think I would be capable of seeing it as you do, Millie. Not yet."

Millie forced a tight smile on her lips. "We have much yet to overcome before we need delve into the politics of our family and our respective matrimonial unions. Let us not talk of such things now."

Lillian met her smile with one of her own, though it didn't quite meet her eyes. Though their relationship was far from being what it once was, Millie felt small inklings of familiarity that provoked hope to blossom in her chest- that her blood sister returning was good and right, and set in motion new plans in accordance to her own. With Lillian at her side, Millie felt more capable and sure, especially while she fretted endlessly over the state of her beloved.

Shortly, Addilyn Holt entered through the same door that Lillian had made her presence known. It was always the quiet within the chamber that caused the newly entered occupants to hesitate before moving forward, as if the ominous heaviness of the air around them compelled their feet to take root within the fibres of the carpet at their feet. Undeterred, however, Addilyn quickly located her target and made for her immediately.

"The doctor has arrived," she said quickly, her voice veiled in a soft hush so as not to disturb the injured male upon the bed. "Finn will bring him up shortly, but I was hoping to have a quick word with you while he is examining your husband, Lady Adams."

Millie nodded and unfolded her legs from chest, her limbs protesting at the action considering how long she had been curled up into herself as she sat at Blayne's side. While she did so, Finnegan Holt entered with Doctor Samuel in his wake. A brief, familiar greeting was exchanged between the man who had attentively bestowed Millie a distraction while her father lay on his deathbed for several months, and she quickly divulged her fears to him prior to his assessment. Assured by his calm presence, she watched him concernedly as he moved towards Blayne, even as Addilyn began to speak.

"I hope you do not mind me being so bold, especially during a time like this," Mrs Holt began with an earnestness that compelled Millie to meet her gaze, "but there is a guest staying at your behest that intrigues me."

Millie frowned in thought. "If you mean one of the Draëllians-"

"No, no- a girl," Addilyn corrected hastily. "Well, one could hardly call her a girl when she is quite clearly on the shelf, so to speak. But I believe she would make quite a popular client of mine."

"Mrs Holt, I believe that you and my sister are the only other females in residence present-" It was then that Millie recalled a set of bright eyes magnified ridiculously by a pair of spectacles, a mousey and shy miss who tried her very best to be a curtain during the ball last evening. "Oh, you mean, Miss-" drat, the peculiar name evaded her.

"Cotton." Addilyn smiled slightly at that. "Yes, Miss Cotton is who I am referring to. I met the lady during breakfast and... she is rather an odd sort, but quite perfect for us, I am sure. I was hoping you wouldn't find me forward for seeking her out while she is one of your guests."

"Has Miss... Cotton expressed an interest, Addy? If she has, I don't see why you would even think it would be forward. But regardless, there is no harm in approaching the girl and if she... finds herself compelled to seek one of your matches, then why ever not? Lord knows it is because of you that I made mine, and I could not be happier with-" Her words cut off at what she was about to say, her chest constricting painfully. She was happy, unbelievably so, more than she had a right to be in the wake of her sire's demise, and her eyes snatched to Blayne once more, her throat working painfully to quell the exhausted tears that began to burn her eyes.

"He will be fine," Addilyn said softly, touching Millie's shoulder in a conciliatory gesture that only served to make her ache even more.

Millie gave her a taut smile. "Please convey my apologies to Miss Cotton and that she is welcome to explore the estate as she desires. I will duly entertain her as soon as I am assured of Blayne's improvement."

A movement caught her eyes- Doctor Samuel shifting and straightening from the bedside, his equipment spread out neatly upon the mattress as he completed his examination. Millie felt dizzy at the realization as her blood plummeted through her body, the expression on his face, the equipment he was normally methodical about cleaning and clearing immediately upon completion... She knew before he came over to her what his quiet words would convey, what his soft brown eyes were mirroring.

He opened his mouth to speak, but perhaps the expression on her countenance compelled him to stall his words even as he took in the other occupants of the chamber. Instead, his lips pursed tightly together and he inclined his chin, affirming her suspicions and the anguish that exploded throughout her body. Trembling, the edges of her vision blurring, Millie moved towards Blayne, her feet carrying her across the carpet as if she were made of nothing more than air itself, and she sat gingerly at his side. Her hand found his, entwining their fingers as she brought his up to her lips, the sound of his unusual breaths too loud, too uneven as they met the thrash of her erratic heartbeat.

He stirred at her touch, at her closeness, as he always did, and it made her ache more for it. Even wounded and fighting for his very existence, Blayne was urged to find her, to seek and consult her.

"The procedure can be performed this very day, Mildred," Doctor Samuel told her quietly. "The fluid needs to be drained from his lungs in order for him to heal."

"It is invasive, and painful. Infection-"

"Mildred." His tone, firm yet kind and understanding, made her flinch slightly. She knew of the procedure he spoke, had seen him perform it only once before to drain the fluid from the lungs.

Forcing the tears from her eyes, from running down her cheeks, she notched her chin higher and met his gaze steadily. "I will not force the procedure on him unless no other options present themselves," she told him.

"The only other options are sepsis and death," he said flatly. "I would advise it be done sooner than later, Mildred, while he still has some of his strength to withstand the pain. There is morphine-"

Blayne's fingers spasmed about her hand and she started at the movement, turning suddenly to consider him. His eyes were open, though glazed with the fog of his daze, and he shook his head weakly. "No, I'll not take anything," he said, his voice a hushed rasp of a sound that pulled at her heart.

How long had he been cognizant of their conversation, Millie wondered, and all that it entailed? She drew his fingers to her lips once more, tenderly running her free hand against his temple and cheek. "You have nothing to fear, I will not allow it," she murmured to him gently. "I'll exhaust every other avenue open to us first, my love."

He turned his head, pressing his lips against the palm of her hand, his eyes closing slightly as if it wore him out to keep them open any longer. Millie turned to Doctor Samuel. "How much time do we have before the procedure should be performed? The last possible amount we could wait," she clarified.

"I would advise against waiting longer than a day, two at most."

It was not much and Millie swallowed against the trepidation that lodged against her throat. She had no idea how long it would take Aëghan and Rogane to return to Ravensfield- the other man having sustained injuries to his wings that would prevent them moving faster than necessary. Even then, it was a far stretch that he would assist them and divulge them of a healer who could simply enchant Blayne to full health effortlessly.

Refusing to allow hopelessness swallow her, Millie nodded slowly and turned to Lillian, who had been watching over proceedings silently and astutely. "I fear, sister, that I have need of your services and your word sooner than I would have expected it," she said contritely.

Lillian stood quickly, smoothing her skirts over her thighs. "Anything you need, if I am able to provide it, I shall."

Millie's voice held firm as she explained her next directives, even though her memory of the previous time she had requested such a service only brought forward more tumultuous emotions. "Go to London, raise an appeal to expedite a request for a faeborn healer. Please."

----

A/N

There has been such a delay in updating this story, and I do apologise. 

I have been recovering from a bout of covid- sigh. Fatigue and brain fog seemed to be lingering even though this was a lovely Christmas present. 

On top of that, I have been inundated with changes in work and paperwork for visas to get my fiance back over here (we've been apart for almost a year now- looong story, maybe one day I will tell it) but on Friday we will finally be reunited :)  Wedding plans and the admin with venues and all that nonsense also took root, and I couldn't focus on publishing anything over the last two weeks. 

Am hoping to complete this within the next couple of days, though. 

Thank you for your patience and endless support :) 

As always- 

Love,

Ash x