Taran's point of view
Taran shifted uncomfortably in the chair. Once they had gotten to their rooms, they had quickly decided to have rose try letting blue heal them both. Rose didn't seem too reluctant about it. Taran suspected she was hurt more than she let on, though she claimed it was only a matter of bruising.
Since that decision, they had settled down into rose's room, trying to help her or wait for her to let blue, the other side, take over. Taran was still not sure what was wrong with the girl, really. He believed she had a split personality disorder, or at least, that's what the gwees best explained it as, and he believed them. But she did not seem to be able to let the other personality rise to the surface. He tried helping, any way he could, but it wasn't helping. Neither was just being supportive. Finally, they decided to call it a night.
Taran got up, and went to his room with the gwees. He closed the door softly behind him. They both would need sleep. He took a few steps down the hall and entered his own room, closing the door behind him as well. Looking at the bed, he yawned. It looked so comfrotable... a place to lie and sleep, even the floor, might look comfortable about now. Carefully, he took off his jacket, trying not to move his left arm. For ten more minutes, he fumbled with the buttons on his vest. He was, after all, left handed, and his left wrist and shoulder were injured. Dislocated shoulder and broken wrist, to be exact. Then he loosed the strings on his shirt, and laid down on top of the blankets.
Sleep did not come immediatly to Taran, as he had hoped. His mind kept going over everything. Absolutely everything. From the mage's council and his exams and studies there, to Rose and what an odd creature she was, and then to the gwees, who were such unique creatures and yet who both would not tell him more about the odd Rose, and what she was. Or, all of what she was? And then there was this Dragon. A blue Dragon! With... quite a nasty tongue on her, if he knew his dragon speech correct. And he was almost sure he did.
He heard the soft scraping as his door was opened, and light poored in from the outside hall. He tried to turn to see who, but it was hard to tell, with the light pouring in around the figure. The the door closed, and he had to readjust his eyes to the loss of light. Before he could, he heard the person come closer to him, and then kneel down beside his bed.
"Who?" asked Taran, a little taken aback. He was starting to be able to see an outline of a head. One he might recognize... but it shook its head.
Cold flooded through Taran's entire arm as the figure placed a hand on the wounded shoulder. A tingling sensation ran back into his chest and also down the length of his arm. The then hand moved down to his wrist, and felt colder still. Within moments, the figure took back its hand.
Taran cautiously tried moving his left hand, and he felt no pain. He tried to sit up, and his shoulder was no longer dislocated at all. He smiled, and looked at the shadowy face before him.
"Thank you, blue." Taran said, knowing she had not the power to speak when in control, from past experience. "Thank you." He could sear her eyes glistened before she rose to leave, and Taran had half a mind to-... nothing. He watched her leave, with feelings of happiness and a great sadness from deep inside himself.
They just had to find a way to fix her, they just had to.
Taran, feeling able to put aside his worries for some odd reason, laid back down, and fell asleep almost instantly.
The next morning, when he met up with Rose in the galley scavenging for breakfast, he didn't say anything, and neither did she. He didn't know what to say anymore. And Rose looked like she was perturbed enough as it was.
The gwees just looked at Rose, and then Taran, and shook their heads.
Since that decision, they had settled down into rose's room, trying to help her or wait for her to let blue, the other side, take over. Taran was still not sure what was wrong with the girl, really. He believed she had a split personality disorder, or at least, that's what the gwees best explained it as, and he believed them. But she did not seem to be able to let the other personality rise to the surface. He tried helping, any way he could, but it wasn't helping. Neither was just being supportive. Finally, they decided to call it a night.
Taran got up, and went to his room with the gwees. He closed the door softly behind him. They both would need sleep. He took a few steps down the hall and entered his own room, closing the door behind him as well. Looking at the bed, he yawned. It looked so comfrotable... a place to lie and sleep, even the floor, might look comfortable about now. Carefully, he took off his jacket, trying not to move his left arm. For ten more minutes, he fumbled with the buttons on his vest. He was, after all, left handed, and his left wrist and shoulder were injured. Dislocated shoulder and broken wrist, to be exact. Then he loosed the strings on his shirt, and laid down on top of the blankets.
Sleep did not come immediatly to Taran, as he had hoped. His mind kept going over everything. Absolutely everything. From the mage's council and his exams and studies there, to Rose and what an odd creature she was, and then to the gwees, who were such unique creatures and yet who both would not tell him more about the odd Rose, and what she was. Or, all of what she was? And then there was this Dragon. A blue Dragon! With... quite a nasty tongue on her, if he knew his dragon speech correct. And he was almost sure he did.
He heard the soft scraping as his door was opened, and light poored in from the outside hall. He tried to turn to see who, but it was hard to tell, with the light pouring in around the figure. The the door closed, and he had to readjust his eyes to the loss of light. Before he could, he heard the person come closer to him, and then kneel down beside his bed.
"Who?" asked Taran, a little taken aback. He was starting to be able to see an outline of a head. One he might recognize... but it shook its head.
Cold flooded through Taran's entire arm as the figure placed a hand on the wounded shoulder. A tingling sensation ran back into his chest and also down the length of his arm. The then hand moved down to his wrist, and felt colder still. Within moments, the figure took back its hand.
Taran cautiously tried moving his left hand, and he felt no pain. He tried to sit up, and his shoulder was no longer dislocated at all. He smiled, and looked at the shadowy face before him.
"Thank you, blue." Taran said, knowing she had not the power to speak when in control, from past experience. "Thank you." He could sear her eyes glistened before she rose to leave, and Taran had half a mind to-... nothing. He watched her leave, with feelings of happiness and a great sadness from deep inside himself.
They just had to find a way to fix her, they just had to.
Taran, feeling able to put aside his worries for some odd reason, laid back down, and fell asleep almost instantly.
The next morning, when he met up with Rose in the galley scavenging for breakfast, he didn't say anything, and neither did she. He didn't know what to say anymore. And Rose looked like she was perturbed enough as it was.
The gwees just looked at Rose, and then Taran, and shook their heads.
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