Work Text:
Kamaria sits alone in her tent, hands shaking as she attempts for the third time to thread a needle. Her father has allowed her the privilege of taking care of the gash on her arm that won’t stop bleeding before she has to report to the guardhouse for her punishment. Because having a sword slice open her arm isn’t punishment enough. No, she has to have consequences for allowing herself to be injured in the first place.
With the needle finally prepped, she turns her attention to her upper arm, wincing as she pours a bit more water over it to wash away the blood that’s covering it again. Thankfully she’s nearly as skilled with her left hand as her right. It’s still an awkward angle to deal with. It doesn’t help that her vision keeps going blurry, forcing her to take small breaks until she can see what she’s doing again.
She’s certainly not in a hurry. The mottled purple and blue encircling her wrists reminds her that it hasn’t been long since she was in the guardhouse last, not to mention the stinging stripes across her back. Maybe it won’t be a whipping this time, at least. That doesn’t mean it will be any better.
But if she takes too long, Roderick may come looking for her, so Kamaria pushes forward, sliding the needle in and out of her skin. Every once in a while, she has to stop and clean off the blood again. But there’s less of it now. Slowly but surely, with each painful stitch, the wound is closing up.
It takes her four tries to tie the knot at the end, since it’s nearly on the back of her arm and the trembling of her hands hasn’t improved any. She gets it done, though, slicing off the excess thread with a knife and dropping the bloody needle onto the lid of her medical kit. She’ll deal with it later. All she really wants right now is to lie down and sleep, but she has places to be.
Whatever Roderick does to her today, she just hopes he doesn’t ruin her work.