Work Text:
Red, painful lighting crackles all over the Tarnished’s body, and they struggle to use the one, still responsive arm, to lift themselves up from the ground. From the corner of their eye, they see Millicent unleash a flurry of attacks on the Draconic Tree Sentinel, two of which slash through armour and bone, finally felling the creature. Relieved, the Tarnished let their hand give and fall back down on the warm embrace of the dirt.
They don't hear her walking towards them, but they soon feel two gentle fingers, softly pressing on the side of their neck. Then a quiet, relieved sigh before she talks.
"Can you hear me?"
The Tarnished grunts in response, too tired to move.
"It is done," she informs them. "Can you move? We should go before the Golems reach us."
They grunt again, this time trying to shake their head.
Somehow she understands. With firm hands, she picks them up and places them over her left shoulder like a sack of food. Not the most dignified way to be carried, but they are too hurt to care. She quickly kicks open the gate to the Capital, walking fast to the Grace on the other side of the Rampart.
There, she slowly puts the Tarnished down, resting their back on the side of the railing.
"It's not working," she says, referring to the Site not healing them the way it normally does. "Can you activate it?"
The Tarnished would much rather die and be reformed at the previous Grace, but the hint of worry that Millicent’s voice carries pushes them to make an effort.
It's not enough. The Grace remains faded.
"It's fine," she says as she drops on her knees next to them.
Softly, she wipes the Tarnished’s hair away from their eyes and using a fairly clean cloth, she cleans the sweat off their face. Their Flasks are empty, and Millicent’s only has a single charge, which she makes them take.
The taste is different, the Tears filling their mouth, but the relief is less, halted by another substance in the Flask. Still, their body quickly feels more awake. Which might not be such a good thing, because as the feeling returns to their previously unresponsive arm, the pain hits them hard and constant. The Tarnished holds back a scream and Millicent quickly takes their hand in hers, rubbing it comfortingly.
After a minute that feels like a century, the pain subsides a bit, leaving the Tarnished breathing hard. Noticing it, Millicent quickly unfastens the straps of their armour. She makes a face seeing the red lighting scars that trace their skin in all directions. She works faster, and soon the Tarnished is relieved of their armour and left in their undergarments.
The lighting scars cover most of their skin, and as the sharp pain in their hand is retreating, it only gives way for the burning of the lighting.
Millicent is well aware of the pain and she quickly rummages through her pouches. From there, she retrieves a vial, similar looking to the Flasks, only its contains are much more creamy. She puts some of the silver-pink cream on her left palm, then notices the questioning look in the Tarnished’s eyes.
“Mashed Preserving Boluses,” she explains. “They help with the Scarlet Rot. They may help with this as well. I hope.”
It’s not as good as a cold bath in the lake, but there is some relief as she applies the cream, first on the Tarnished’s legs. The cream makes her calloused fingers feel soft as they touch their skin. She is very focused and quiet as she does so.
The way she works, they notice her ponytail is loose again, her red hair falling over her face, hiding it from the sides. The Tarnished gets the irrational urge to fix it.
Before they attempt to lift their hand again, she turns to them, steady gold eyes finding theirs.
“Legs done,” she announces. “Feeling better?”
They nod with a tired smile. And, surprisingly, they get one back.
“Then I’ll do your body as well.”