#afsaneh

Something flickers at the edge of her sight and she swears she sees the shadows move.

Her chest tightens as a sense of foreboding creeps over her. This isn’t right. Why is the window open? Did… did someone climb in through the window?

Bit by bit, Afsaneh wrangles her sluggish thoughts out of the numbing grasp of sleep.

Who would climb in through the window at this time of night? What–?

She stiffens as her attention is caught by a soft shuffle. It sounds from further into the room now. Barely daring to breathe, she inches her head around, staring intently into the darkness.

Beside her, Nadia is still sleeping peacefully, breath slow and steady. Beyond her, Afsaneh can just hear the soft scratch of cloth on cloth over the hammering of her own pulse. There was someone there, no doubt about it.

Suddenly, she hears a soft scraping sound… and moments later the shadows seem to manifest as a looming shape nears the bed, nears Nadia’s sleeping form. The glint of metal catches a beam of moonlight and Afsaneh’s blood runs cold.

No.

“No–!”

Afsaneh’s cry startles the other person and she used that opportunity to fling a blast of magic them. They stumble back and Afsaneh follows moments later, launching herself over Nadia and tackling the attacker to the ground.

They give a low grunt and struggle against her with surprising strength. Afsaneh grits her teeth, shaking as adrenaline pumps through her body. She tries for a punch, but she misses in the dark. All too soon she finds herself pressed against the floor by the weight of the attacker.

“Oof.”

“Afsaneh…?”

Nadia’s sleepy voice snaps her to attention. And the attacker too, apparently. She feels their weight lift off of her, catches another glint of metal, of the dagger.

No!

Snarling, she scrambles to her feet and throws her full weight against the attacker, pushing them against a wall. She claws at their face, nails digging into soft flesh and the attacker yelps in pain. Furious, she funnels magic into her palms, feels them grow unbearably hot against the attackers skin. No one dare hurt Nadia!

They yell and shove her away from them with a punch to the gut before turning tail and running towards the balcony. Afsaneh stumbles to her knees, but launches another blast of magic after them. She misses, the shot flying just past the attacker’s head as they vault over the balcony railing and vanish into the night.

Panting, Afsaneh drops on all fours. Her pulse hammers in her head and she doesn’t hear Nadia approaching until she feels a hand on her shoulder.

“Afsaneh! What happened? Are you all right?!”

The lights are one now, Nadia must have lit a lamp. Her worried face comes into view, her hands holding Afsaneh’s face.

“I’m okay… I’m okay…” Afsaneh says between heavy breaths. “But you should call the guards. That was an assassin if I ever saw one.”

Afsaneh leans back, ready to stand up. But instead, she flinches and sucks a sharp gasp through her teeth as pain suddenly flares out from her midsection.

“Afsaneh!”

Nadia’s arms catch her as she slumps sideways. Afsaneh grasps at her side, but that only makes it hurt more. When she pulls her hand back it’s slick and red with blood and suddenly the room seems to spin around her.

“Oh.”

The pain is blazing. White hot. Afsaneh gasps and she feels her breath quicken as panic settles into her. She’s been stabbed.

She looks up to meet Nadia’s gaze and sees the same mix of horror and fear she feels, reflected back at her. Tears prick in her eyes.

“Nadi…”

“Shh, shh, it’s all right.”

Nadia’s voice is steady, but only just. Her face is tight with worry. She eases Afsaneh down onto the floor and rushes towards the door, calling out for a doctor into the hallway. Then she hurries back to Afsaneh’s side, grabbing some piece of cloth on her way, a robe, which she presses to the wound. Quickly, the thin fabric soaks with blood, staining Nadia’s hands.

“Stay still, you’ll be all right.”

She runs her free hand through Afsaneh’s hair, fingers trembling.

“You’ll be all right.”

She repeats it under her breath, like a mantra, an effort to stay as calm as she can manage. One hand keeps caressing Afsaneh’s hair, her cheek, her forehead. Shaking fingers stroking sweaty skin.

Afsaneh looks up at her, breathing against the pain. It’s unlike anything she has felt before. She tries to focus on Nadia’s touch instead, but it doesn’t work very well. Not when her midriff feels like it’s on fire. She closes her eyes, a soft groan escaping her lips. Her eyes open again when Nadia’s grip on her tightens.

“What were you thinking?”

The exasperation in her tone can’t hide any of the worry behind it. Afsaneh snorts weakly, wincing when it sharpens the pain.

“Not much. It was either you or me. And you were sleeping.”

Nadia frowns, obviously not pleased with the answer. But in all fairness, Afsaneh isn’t sure there is any answer she can give right now that would please her. Afsaneh reaches out with her hand, biting down a pained gasp as the motion pulls at her side. Nevertheless, she cups Nadia’s cheek in her trembling, clammy hand.

“I’ll be fine.”

Nadia gazes down at her intensely, a storm of emotions behind her eyes. She opens her mouth to say something when the door is pushed open and a team of palace doctors rush into the door.

They move quickly, one of them kneeling down beside Afsaneh as the other ushers Nadia out of the door despite her protest.

“Please, You Excellency, if you could just wait outsi–”

“But I can’t leave her now!”

She attempts to push past the man and is stopped by a gentle but firm hand to her shoulder. She turns a hard stare on the doctor and he swallows visibly under the force of it.

“W-we promise, we will take the best of care. But we require some privacy.”

Before Nadia can answer, Portia appears at her side. She puts a hand on Nadia’s elbow, giving a gentle smile.

“Come, M’lady. I’m sure the doctors will be glad not to have you breathing down their necks.”

Nadia shoots her a sharp gaze and Portia reddens slightly, but stands her ground, waiting until Nadia relents with a sigh. She lets herself be guided away, eyes lingering on her bedroom door.

Portia leads her to an adjacent sitting room and Nadia collapses onto one of the seats, her face in her hands. Worry gnaws at her, winding a tight coil around her chest. She keeps seeing Afsaneh before her, hair tussled, skin paling, a pool of red growing slowly beneath her. She swallows hard against the fear that rises within her. She’ll be alright.

And yet. What if.

Her stomach twists with a sickening feeling of dread. How could she have ever let this happen? Where were the guards when she needed them, for goodness sake! An assassin! How could they have let an assassin onto the palace grounds, into the palace!

But she supposes that was on her for not stationing the guards well enough. Or for under-staffing. Or not providing them with enough training. Or not locking the window. Or not hearing the intruder. Or not waking up in time. Or not fighting the assassin herself. Or–

Nadia gasps. The worry, the blame. She feels like it’s choking her.

“M’lady…”

Portia’s hand is on her arm. A warm, anchoring pressure.

“She’ll be all right. We have the best doctors. And besides, a stab wound like that won’t just do you in. Ilya said so once.”

Why Julian was talking to his sister about stab wounds is beyond Nadia, not to mention the fact that she isn’t sure the doctor’s facts are quite accurate, but she appreciates Portia’s efforts at reassurance.

“Thank you, Portia.”

Her voice is soft and a little hoarse. She clears her throat and sits up straighter, clasping her hands tightly together.

The wait seems endless. Portia’s attempts at conversation soon secede and they are left in silence. Nadia worries her lips between her teeth, the hem of her robe between her fingers. Her gaze is fixed somewhere into the distance, unseeing. The image of bloodied Afsaneh unwilling to leave her mind. Absentmindedly, she rubs at the red stains on her own hands.

Finally, the door to the room creaks open and a servant informs them that the Countess is welcome to return to her room now. Nadia jerks to her feet, posture stiff, and rushes past the servant before they can say another word.

*

Through heavy eyelids, Afsaneh watches the doctors pack up their utensils. They have given her something and now the world seems a little fuzzy. She doesn’t mind, the bed is soft beneath her and the pain in her side has dulled. A quite welcome sensation. She leans deeper into the pillows and closes her eyes.

She hears the door open and urgent steps approaching the bed. When she opens her eyes again, Nadia is looking down at her, her expression a mix of worry and relief.

“You’re all right.” A confirmation to herself. 

Her fingers graze Afsaneh’s cheek, then run gingerly along the white bandage that is wrapped around her middle.

“Mhm. All good.”

The words feel thick and awkward in her mouth. But Nadia’s hands on her arms, her face, in her hair, they feel good. She sighs softly and leans into the touch.

“How could you put yourself in danger like that?”

Afsaneh frowns. What sort of question was that? The answer was obvious.

“For you.”

She blinks up at Nadia and sees tears glistening in her eyes. Her heart clenches.

“Oh, no no, don’t cry.”

She raises her hand to Nadia’s face, brushing a stray tear away with her thumb.

“I’m all right. I’ll be good as new.” She crooks her lips into a small smile. “Plus, I’ll have a cool battle scar now.”

Nadia’s breath hitches in her throat. A laugh, a sob, or both.

“You reckless fool.” It would be reprimanding if there wasn’t a tremble in her voice. She grasps Afsaneh’s hand, holding it tighter against her cheek, turning her head and grazing her lips against the palm.

“Hm, The Fool.” Afsaneh waggles her eyebrows a little, which earns her another sob or laugh. “You’re fool.” That earns her an exasperated huff, though it can’t compete with the worried fondness in Nadia’s eyes.

Afsaneh pulls Nadia closer to her so she ends up with her head resting in the crook of Afsaneh’s neck. Nadia shifts and is soon lying beside her, on arm slung carefully around her. She presses a kiss to Afsaneh’s cheek. Then another. Her fingers trace gently over her chest, her arms, as if confirming that nothing else is out of place, that Afsaneh is still here, with her.

Afsaneh closes her eyes and hums softly. Whatever the doctors gave her is pulling more and more at her consciousness. She feels Nadia’s lips grazing her temple, then her breath against her ear as Nadia whispers.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again.”