Season in Crimson

   Chapter three...

  Jareth woke slowly. His whole body ached from head to toe. He had to talk himself into opening his eyes. He could hear the murmur of hushed voices. The words were not important. It was the tones that had him trying to focus his eyes. He knew the timber in his grandfather's voice. But the other voices were not known to him. And that set off warnings in his head.
  He swallowed slowly. His throat was dry and it burned a little. He turned his head slowly only to have a dull pain shoot through his neck muscles. The darkness in the room did nothing to help him gather his senses about him. Before he could move much more a small pair of hands was holding his head and touching an earthen mug to his lips.
  The cool water that was being offered was most welcomed. It stopped the burn though not the ache. He gave a small nod when he had drunk enough to slake the thirst and burn. He could just barely make out the shape of a female. Though the lights were none he could tell she was a young woman. She was not exactly heavy set but she was not thin either from what he could tell.
  He was able to barely nod his head to signal that he had drunk enough. The mug was moved from his lips. He rested his head on the down feather pillow. He took a moment to just lay there and try to focus on his aching body. He slowly wiggled his toes just to make sure that he could. He felt like a log just lying in the bed.
   "Just rest now. Do not try to get up. Let the herbs work for you" Said the soft voice of the young maid that stood besides the bed. She reached down and touched Jareth's forehead. He was warm and sweaty to the touch.
   Jareth watched as the maid moved around his grandfather's quarters. She was very familiar with the lay out. That troubled Jareth. Nothing about her was familiar to him. He didn't like feeling like he was ignorant. Or that some one knew his grandfather that well that did not seem familiar to him. No even her scent was familiar to him.
  "Who are you?" Jareth asked. His voice came out in a very hoarse whisper. He didn't like that but there was nothing that he could do about it. He strained to see the maid better. But there was no real light. He followed her movements by using his hearing and his sense of smell.
Jareth was not sure how to classify her smell. It was a combination of wood smoke, herbs, perfume, and a soft natural musk. It was a whole new scent for him. And he liked it. It soothed him and excited him as well. His dark brows furrowed. He was surprised by his reaction to her. He had not ever reacted physically to a maid before. He gently pinched himself to remind him of his manners.
  Lycaenia struck the match on the flight striker. She lit the small oil lamp and carried it to the bedside table. She sat down on the small stool beside the bed. "I am glad you are awake." Lycaenia said softly. She let her eyes study him to gauge how well his healing was going. She liked the way he looked. A strange tingle caressed her spine as she studied the young man. She didn't care about the impropriety of her study. He had strong features that only served to compliment his brave heart.
  Her gaze lingered on his full lips longer than it should have. She wondered what those full lips would feel like again hers. A slight flush crept into her cheeks at the sound of Grandfather Sage clearing his throat. She was not sure why this male should have the effect he was having on her. It was foreign to her. No other had ever warmed her or made her wonder what their lips would feel like.
  "Jareth this young lady is Lycaenia and the lady behind me is Ze'Eva. They found you in the Forest and brought you to me. Lycaenia has been tending to your wounds for the last two days. They are Roma. They have come for this season. "Sage said.  Sage reached down and touched his grandson's brow. It was cool but damp to the touch. His heart stopped it's worrying.
  He looked back and forth between his grandson and Lycaenia. The air was thick with energy and unspent power. There was more going on than the eye could see. Sage opened his well honed senses and could feel the surge of 'magic' in the air. He looked back at Ze'Eva. The quesrions between them were not needed to be spoken.
   Jareth looked around the room. The women looked a lot alike. Both were dark haired and tanned skin. He could tell they both knew about hard work and were not afraid of it. The images of the dark wolf falshed through his mind. He tried to move and found that he was not able to. He looked back into the eyes of his grandfather. "Help me." he rasped.
   Sage sat down on the bed. "Easy now boy-o. What is so important?" Sage asked. He lay a hand on Jareth's leg to help calm him. He knew that what ever had come to Jareth's mind had to be important indeed. He also caught the wary look in his grandson's eyes. He knew that Jareth was caustious infront of Ze'Eva. That's just the way his grandson was.
     Jareth looked around his grandfather's room for his clothes. His thoughts raced around to the wolf. He hoped that the wolf was not  too badly and left all alone in pain in the Forest. "Wolf. Alone. Hurt. Help." Jareth stammered. He reached for the edge of the blanket. He was determined to get up. He had to go look for the wolf whoo had faught with him.
   Sage looked to Ze'Eva. He took a deep breath and then turned back to Jareth. "Rest now. The wolf is well. It took off as soon as we arrived. Close your eyes now. I have already sent word on to Gretchen. They are not overly worried. I told them you twisted an ankle to help a woodland animal." Sage said.
    Jareth felt tired and his head started to throb. He really had no energy to fight against his grandfather. He settled, though resentfully, in the pillows. He closed his eyes to slits as his grandfather and the elder Ze'Eva left the room. He tipped his head to the side. He caught the movement from the corner of his eye. He followed the movement as best as he could with out giving himself away. He still did not trust the strangers. And he was in no shape to defend himself or his grandfather.
     "You are worried for the wolf?" Lycaenia asked as she straightened the bed covers around Jareth. She needed to keep moving. Too much had happened that she was  not ready to think about yet. She had many questions to answer and to ask as well. But she was not to leave Jareth until she was sure he was well. He had earned the tender care that she was giving. He had fought with her, for her even.  
    Once she was done seeing to Jareth's comfort she sat back down on the chest that she had claimed that sat on the side of the bed. She folded her hands in her lap. Though her hands itched to touch his forehead to wipe away the sweat. She kept her gaze on his feet. She didn't need him to see into her eyes. She could feel that her eyes would have given her away for what she was. She couldn't afford to give anything away, yet.
   Jareth's eyes snapped open. He looked at the girl on the side of the bed. She was beautiful, exotic in truth. Her dark hair, though braided, was long and probably wavy. She had almond shaped eyes that seemed to take in everything. The color was deep and in the dim light Jareth could not make it out. He could only nod his head.
   "Well if I know wolves, and I do know them, that wolf will be fine. Though more cautious I guess." Lycaenia said, secretly chastizing herself for not being as careful as she should have been. She knew that her mother was more than irritated with her. The trouble she was in with her mother was not sitting well with her. That was part of the reason she was not wanting to go back to the camp and face them. Not yet anyway, for Lycaenia was not a coward. She had her pride after all.
     In her defense she was now marked, the strange full moon circle on the nape of her neck by her left ear tingled still. She reached up and touched it in a way that looked like she was moving her braid. She hid the mark well. She was still adjusting to the fact that she was a vessel to the Goddess herself. She was now called Moon Blessed. And there had not been a Moon Blessed in many generations of Band members.
     Jareth shook his head. He was not comforted by her words. He felt tired, warn out, and worried for the wolf. He needed to see for himself that the wolf was safe. They had faught side by side. He owed the wolf that much. He needed to know that the wolf was okay. He felt guilty for laying in a nice warm dry bed being waited on when the wolf was out there alone and wounded.
     Lycaenia felt the worry radiating off of Jareth. She reached out and lay a hand on his forearm and sent calming and healing waves of energy into him. She wanted him to not worry over her. She was fine and dandy. She was not a mere human who got hurt so easy. And she grew up with the boys fighting at every chance they got. So she had held her own in the fight well enough but something was nagging at her. But that would be settled later.