 FIC: "His Succor" (double drabble -- 200 words) When I fell, I felt him close behind. Before the current could tug at me, he lifted me easily, pulling me up on his horse and taking us both away from the battle. My skin was wet and stained with blood; I still shivered from the touch of the cold river. He cradled me in front of him while we road back to camp, never saying a word. As shocked as I still was from the sudden blow of that Bactrian shield, I could feel the comfort of his arms invading my being. He took me to his own tent, avoiding mine, knowing there would be another waiting there. With his own hands he undressed me and dried my numbed flesh, rubbing away the gore from my face. He held a cup so I could drink and gently brushed my tangled hair. Then he disrobed himself and took me to his bed, warming me with his own heat, holding me in his strong arms, his face pressing to mine, his breath caressing my foreheard. "I thought you were lost to me," he said, and I tasted his tears on my lips. "Never, my general," I answered. "Not even in death." The End |