[Ridge]
Before I can protest Kadeeth takes hold of my arm and starts leading me, swiftly but carefully, to the far side of the spring, "You stay here, big guy, we'll follow the stream." He calls to Tellur.
He steps into the shallows and we walk the perimeter of the water until we get to a small creek leading off of it. How did I miss that before? Or more like how did he see it through all the reeds lining the waters edge?
"Kade-" He tugs me a little harder.
In a gentle, pathetic voice he asks, "Not yet, Ridge. Just- give me a minute." I nod and he thanks me, then we go back to creek-stomping our way downstream. The cold water feels amazing on my flushed skin. I take the chance to observe him as I follow the path he chooses through the water, dodging rocks and lodged sticks.
He's a mess. His ripped flesh is visible through the holes in his sleeves. It's covered in dark, dried crimson. The hand holding mine has a small cut on the inside of his finger. It's a tell of his that I noticed years ago. Kadeeth holds short blades near the handle, which is why he prefers ones with a guard where it connects to the actual blade. It's common for him to slice his hands and fingers when he fights because his hand will slip down.
A few minutes later the stream opens up into an even bigger pond. Except this one is overrun with purple lily pads. The violet lotus flowers completely cover the surface of the otherwise crystal clear water. This is much better, not everything will be out in the open.
Kadeeth stops and takes my crutch and my bag from me, leaning it against a nearby tree. He does the same with his own belongings and then kicks off his shoes as well. I start to bend over to take mine off too, but then Kadeeth's hands are back on my waist and lifting me.
I'm too shocked at first to struggle, and when I get my bearings back he's setting me down on a large boulder that's sitting halfway in the water. The legs of my shorts are soaked in moments. He wades out deeper into the pristine water to get around the rock. Then he's slipping my shoes off and tossing them onto shore. An embarrassing heat rushes to my face, turning my cheeks bright red, I'm sure.
"Now, " He looks up at me as I'm perched on the boulder above him, "you can chew me out." I take a deep breath, closing my eyes and blocking out his 'pity me' expression.
When I feel prepared I open them again, "What HAPPENED?!" I yell. He keeps a clam exterior, as if he's already run through every possible scenario of how I'd scold him. He certainly had enough time while I was out apparently. Too much happened that I don't know about.
"Whatever you're thinking..." I get tired of his cool and collected reaction, so I start kicking around and splashing him with water. I use my good foot to knock some slimy lily pads into his side as well, "Ridge!"
He seizes just above my ankles before I have a chance to pull away. His grip is strong, but not tight or low enough to do any damage to my healing foot. Still, the bruises definitely feel worse after all that flailing.
"Let go, you asshole!" I try to pull my legs out of his iron grasp.
"Relax, Ridge! You're gonna hurt yourself." He pleads. I stop struggling, I won't win anyway, and I don't want him to hurt himself worse either. His arms are already in a sorry state.
"Just tell me what happened. No excuses. No downplaying. Just be honest with me, don't let this build up like last time." I shove his chest. To my surprise he actually moves back a little. Is he hurt there too? What the heck? How bad is his condition, really?
Or maybe it's because I brought up our fight. I don't want to be passive about our emotions anymore. I thought we were working past that. I thought we were done lying to each other.
We don't have our spot on the roof to run off to anymore to calm us down when we have to reconcile. It's all up to us now, we're the only things left. There won't be any special house plants, or baskets of yarn left as apologies. We're adults now. We can work things out ourselves, as long as we're honest.
"Then you have to promise not to overreact." He compromises. I grind my teeth, partly from annoyance and slightly out of concern. Why would I overreact unless it's something really really awful?
Then he suddenly reaches for my face with one hand. I panic, my red face burning again, and swing my now free leg at his ribs.
He blocks it with his forearm before holding my leg down again. I wince, he grabbed too low. His thumb is digging painfully into a yellowing bruise. He realizes this and moves his hand up. However, his other hand subconsciously slides up with it, now laying on my thigh. I try to back up, but then I remember that I'm on a rock in the middle of the water.
"Hey!" He pulls me back towards him, "Stop that, you'll fall off." I stop squirming, trying to avoid his oblivious, persistent eye contact.
"I won't overreact, so just tell me already." I hate how much that sounded like a whine, but I want to get out of this awkward situation as soon as possible. It reminds me of the first day I met Martina. Everyone was in the great hall, and he teased me about finding him pretty. He wa- is pretty.
I'm pulled out of my solemn thoughts by Kadeeth tightening the bandages on my head. So that's what he was doing, not reaching for my face.
"Okay, um," He pauses, rubbing his neck, "Maybe I should start with this. After you passed out, the Doc looked at your head and uh. Well, it was dark and he couldn't see so good, so they had to cut...your... ugh, hair." He finally forces out. I blink at him. The blood drains from my face.
Deep breathing. DEEP BREATHING. Here goes nothing.
"Am I," my voice turns to a hoarse whisper, "am I bald?"