That hadn’t managed to get through the door before his stepmother was on him. She patted him down the arms and pressed her hands against his cheeks. "You’re unharmed?"
"Physically." He kept the wince locked away when she patted at the spot Tim had chomped down on. He’d hardly be a strong man if he couldn’t handle a little nibble, even if the ‘nibble’ felt like it had torn his flesh ragged.
She wrinkled her nose and dropped her hands. The soft feeling from Vergil’s concern flew away to be replaced by agitation.
"That’s good then," she stepped back. "I don’t know how I would face your father in the afterlife if anything happened to you."
Ethan’s left eye twitched. Obligation. Well, Ethan played that game too and if she was so willing to blatantly admit it, so be it. "Don’t worry step mother, father wouldn’t fault you for my own actions. And if anything happens to me, I’ve assured you and your sons will be well taken care of."
Vergil knocked into him as he brushed past, setting him off balance for a moment. "Your sons," he mumbled agitatedly under his breath. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he jumped up the steps.
Watching him, he noticed Bren’s door open a crack. He was peeking out, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes rimmed with red. When their eyes met, he startled and quickly backed up and closed his door.
"Why don’t I fill the wash basin with warm water."
"Huh," he peeled his eyes off the door to look back at Raymona. He couldn’t have been like that out of worry for Ethan. It was difficult to imagine.
"You're a mess," she explained. "I'll get some water ready for you."
He looked down at himself taking note of the blood and grime. "Urgh."
When Raymona came back she placed the water on the floor. He bent down to grab it, intending to take it to his room. However, she placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back upright. Without a word, she began to unbutton his shirt.
The heat spread across his skin quickly and he grabbed her hand before she'd made it half way down. "Wait, I can manage. I'm not a child anymore."
She shook his hand off and looked at him critically, "I'm not treating you like 'a' child, Ethan. In any case, I can inspect your body for injury at the same time. So be obedient."
He bit the inside of his bottom lip and pouted, making no further complaints. He lacked capacity to think of any at the moment anyways. He felt her work through the rest of his buttons, then roughly pull it off his shoulders. It was all very clinical, no, not clinical. She tugged at his undershirt to indicate for him to bend at the hip for her to remove it. Her huff told him she expected him to make the undressing easier. His heart beat thunderously at his chest.
The grazing of her knuckles on his skin was cold as was the look on her face. Once she'd done away with his pants, leaving him in his undergarments and with the last remaining bit of his shame, she began wiping him down. As her eyebrows furrowed deeper with every bit of blood that had soaked through his clothes, he considered it for the first time. Maybe the expression she often designated for him, might not've been the derisive look he thought it was. His stomach turned until he wanted to throw up and with everything that had gone wrong with the night, he did. Again.
Still, not a word was spoken as he turned away from her and expelled the acidic contents of his stomach. A small, delicate hand patted and rubbed his back. After he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, she took it in hers, which was half the size of his own, and wiped it clean. He had to have know that her hands would be so much smaller than his own, yet, there was still surprise. He was quite young when his father remarried, shortly after his mom died. She had been this big looming figure that seemed to have grown after his father’s death. It was difficult to separate the illusion from the reality. She was small. And regardless of his own perspective of her, she was his father’s beloved wife, and he needed to keep her safe.
She dropped the rag in the basin for the final time and pulled the towel off her shoulders to wrap it around him. She stepped back and finally spoke for the first time in what felt like decades, "Stay here, I’ll be right back." She picked up the basin and walked away.
Very aware of how he was mostly naked at the entrance of his home, he stood there awkwardly. His eyes roamed and he wobbled back and forth on his feet until she came back. She had fresh water and a new rag.
"Next time, tell me if you have a wound before I rub someone else’s blood into it," she said as she took a small bottle from her pocket and poured it over. It stung a bit and he couldn’t help squeezing his eyes.
"Oh," he said dumbly. Would it make a difference?
As if she could read his mind she answered, "You could get an infection from that." That made him feel stupid. If he thought about it, it made sense. "It’s on me. I should have taught you that much," she hung her head as she wrapped up the wound. "…good job … mother," she mumbled, and he only caught a few words. "Now, go upstairs, change, and come back down.”
Most of him instinctively believed she intended for him to come back to clean up his mess, which was fair enough. A small bit of him fought back against the notion. When he did come back, fully clothed in warm sleepwear, the floor was glistening clean.
"Sit at the table," she called from the kitchen. An uncertain smell wafted toward him, causing him to scrunch up his nose as if it were trying its best to run away.
In a few short minutes she was laying a ‘meal’ before him which reminded him of why she didn’t frequent the kitchen. She was looking down at him, her hands clasped together in front of her refusing to stay still. Her eyebrows were cinched together as if connected by a taut piece of string.
He wasn’t sure what was in front of him. Despite trying to identify the individual, yet mysteriously melded together ingredients, he still only managed to figure out that there was some kind of pepper maybe…Certainly, some kind of fruit. It was amazing that his stepbrothers had figured out the kitchen, in some way, better than their mother at least. Which apparently was a low bar.
He looked up at her with a smile. Genuinely. It was a surprise to not feel a moment’s strain. In fact, he was surprised more so by the warm feeling in his stomach. And the hunger there too. Though the food didn’t smell like anything recognizably edible, his body still desired to consume it. So he did. Every last disgusting bite. And he only gagged once, which he managed to play off as a cough.
Once he’d finished, he looked up, meeting her smiling gaze.
Quickly, she covered her lips with her fingers and turned her head away. "Now, get off to bed and get some sleep."
"I was only going to rest my eyes before leaving for the castle," he said, rubbing at his eyes. Sleepiness hit him quite suddenly as did a yawn.
She pinched his nose and he yelped. "Is your work so cruel?"
"Well, I’ll need to get used to this. I’ll face worse eventually," he pulled back and rubbed his nose.
She moved her face in close to his, "You don’t think I haven’t considered every single possibility?" His shoulders tensed as she leaned even closer, a hand holding her weight on the table. "It’s the first night you had to experience anything. Even if I have to go down there myself and command them to let you rest."
He opened his mouth to make a retort but she interupted. "I know, a woman," she mocked gasped. "Telling men what to do. Yes. I'm very much aware of how to get men to do what I tell them to. It used to be life or death for them and they still tried to refuse me." In a soft voice, "I know you need rest, Ethan."
He looked down at his feet. If she were a nurse during a war, considering her age, it would have been the one against the orcs. There was no telling what sort of monstrosity she'd seen. The sort of damage to a human done by such a merciless beast.
Without really thinking it through, only a cursory feeling that she would understand, he said, "The man you saw last night, I watched him burn and be crushed to death. His screams are still ringing in my ears and the sight of his body in such a way I could've never imagined...And Tim, my only friend."
Raymona kneeled before him and reached up to cup his face, rubbing her thumb against his cheek. He tightly clasped his hands over his mouth as if that could stop the tears and the sobs coming up his throat. His breath hitched and his face burned. Soon, the tears all came out. She didn't give him any meaningless comforting words. Didn't tell him it was going to be okay or that she was here for him. None of that. She pulled his hands away from his mouth and brought them to her lips, kissing them. When he fell forward, forehead on his arms, she kissed the top of his head.
When he managed to crawl upstairs to his bed, he immediately fell asleep.
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