The Fateful Heart

The goblin narrowed her eyes at Evaline, then looked down at James.

"He is asleep," she said simply, but then reached into a small pouch on her hip. She pulled out a little needle, point-up, with a small feather on the end. Then she gestured to her neck, and then pointed at James.

"Did not want two..." she paused, seeming like she was searching for the right word. "A-wake."

She took another two steps back and glanced back into the forest, then looked back at Evaline, meeting her eyes. She still held the flame hear her face.

"No harm?" she asked with emphasis as if to confirm. She still looked suspicious.

It was hard to tell what the goblin was trying to say at first. For a moment she thought that she was trying to tell her to stop pinching James, but after she pulled out a feathered needle, pointed at her neck, then pointed at James... Evaline started to understand.

Panic and anxiety started to leak out as she stared at the same tiny feathered needle near his collar bone. She suddenly dropped his shoulders and fell back on her butt, his head landing on the grass with a soft thud, but her eyes never having left the needle.

This was so unlike James to sleep through this. He had to have been drugged by that. Was it the goblin who did this? It had to be. She had the same feathered needle. But why? For what reason?

Evaline's mind began to race about what this could all mean, but she had to keep herself together. James depended on her to not mess this up.

"No harm," she repeated slowly and softy with cement eyes as she looked back at the goblin, focusing on her words to not sound scared or panicked.

She enunciated her next words very carefully.

"Do you mean harm?"

The goblin was quiet for a moment, still giving Evaline the same critical gaze as she was assessing her. It felt like a minute had passed until she answered.

"No," she finally said. "You have no weapons." She looked down at James. "But he does."

She reached into her pocket again, tucking the feather-tipped needle away and pulling out what looked like a small vial.

"Your fr- fr--" she sighed, struggling with the word. "Him. Has bad... er..." she hissed through her teeth and turned the vial around her fingers as she thought. "Bad wound," she finally landed on. "Smells bad. Could die."

She looked like she was trying to think of something to say, with her face all scrunched up, but finally, she sighed again in frustration and just approached, slowly. She held out the vial to Evaline, reaching over James's prone body.

"Put on wound. Help."

She glanced down at James again, scrunching her nose. "And... clean."

Evaline was starting to understand, but she still couldn't help but feel wary, especially when she approached them. This goblin seemed to have good intentions, but James had warned her that goblins are violent creatures who don't want anything to do with humans. Why would this goblin want to help James?

Hesitating, Evaline reached out to take the vial out of her hands.

She didn't know what to say or do at this point. She wanted the goblin to leave, but at the same time, she wanted to understand more about her and her race.

Her fingers wrapped around the vial as she stared at the viscous green fluid. Would this actually help James? Were his wounds worse than she thought? Would he actually die if she did nothing?

This was not a topic to easily dismiss.

"What is this?" she asked, still staring at the vial. "Will this heal him?"

The woman made a face - one of mild frustration, but nothing hostile - and glanced down at James.

"Yes," she said. "Is... magic. Med-medicine."

She sighed once again and shook her head. "I only speak a little common. Speaking it... is hard."

Magic. Medicine.

Evaline held the vial a little tighter with more questions running through her mind, but only one she wanted to ask right now given their language barrier. She didn't know how much of an answer she would be able to get, but something was better than nothing.

"Thank you," she said with a nod before pausing and gesturing to James and herself. "Why help us?"

A look of exasperation crossed the woman's face, but it faded into something that looked a little sad. She looked down at James again.

"Saw him back in time," she paused, and gesture behind her, pointing back in the forest, but trying to emphasize distance, and time. "With no you. Bad wounds. He still hurt."

She rolled her eyes a little, and started to turn away. "How say? Ugh."

It looked like she'd just about given up trying to explain.

"Feel bad for him," she said, not pleased with the lack of words she was able to find. It was clear there was a lot she wished she could say, but didn't know how to. She muttered something in another language with harsh vowels, and waved her hand dismissively.

"Use medicine once, wrap, then wait... days." She held up 3 fingers. It was then that Evaline realized she only had three fingers and a thumb.

Things were starting to make sense. This goblin must have seen James when the wounds were fresh, or maybe she was there a month ago to help him escape from Butch. Evaline didn't think she would be able to get an exact answer, but at least things made a little sense.

Not all goblins were bad.

"Thank you. Again," she said, trying not to stare at her three fingers too long.

She wasn't used to random acts of kindness, especially from a non-human creature. There wasn't anything she could offer back except to have her be lingering pleasant memory. She quickly studied her face again to store what she looked like in her long-term memory, although it would be difficult to remember details considering this was the first goblin she had ever seen.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"In common... Marsha," she said. "Your name?"

She hesitated before opening her mouth.

"Evaline," she said.

Her mind was still buzzing with questions, but she wasn't sure Marsha would be able to answer them without getting frustrated. She needed time to process things right now.

She looked down for a second, then back at her.

"Thank you for your kindness, Marsha. I'll always remember it."

Marsha met Evaline's eyes and nodded. Her lips curved into a small smile, showing a little more of her pointed canines. And then she turned swiftly, distinguishing the flame with a wave of her palm. She disappeared into the forest and was gone.

Evaline stayed staring at the darkness where Marsha was just at, letting the moment sink in. This was her first goblin encounter. It was not how she thought it would go at all, but she was glad it went the way it did. She was terrified at the prospect of someone sneaking up to James when he was drugged, especially when that someone could do fire magic and had a sword. Things could have turned out differently, but it didn't, and for that, Evaline was grateful.

She looked down at the vial again. She could give this to James in the morning, but knowing his distrust in goblins, she wasn't sure he would trust this vial or fully believe her story. And if what Marsha said was true, then he could die.

James wasn't going to like this, but Evaline had to take initiative.

She was about to open the vial, but then an obvious thought occurred to her: she had completely skipped over asking where the deadly wound was.

She found herself facepalming herself from this. How did she forget to ask this? Her mind was so preoccupied with the magic of the vial and Marsha's motivations that it slipped her mind. She looked over at James nervously, who was still in deep slumber. She wasn't sure how much time she had left before he would wake up, but... if she was going to do this, she would have to check all the wounds, and she had to start now.

Stumbling to her feet, Evaline carefully put the vial in her pocket and walked over to where Elliot was, hands out in front of her so she didn't stumble into anything she couldn't see. Although her eyes had adjusted in the night to see faint outlines of things a few feet in front of her, the darkness wasn't going to help her unwrap his wounds.

Elliot seemed to jump a little at the first touch, but she quickly pet him and said soothing words in his ear to calm him down. Not wasting any more time, she reached over to the saddlebag and fished for the spark rocks.

She cautiously walked back to James and kneeled over the dead fire, patting the ground beside it a few times to find where the wood and igniting materials were. When she found it, she quickly tossed it over the ashes and went to work starting the fire.

It took a few minutes for the fire to breathe to life and eat its way into the wood, but as soon as it did, Evaline crouched down besides James and looped her arms under his pits, pulling him towards the dirt wall so he could sit up straight. She grunted with each struggling pull of his limp body, but eventually she succeeded, sitting him up straight as his head fell to the side.

For a moment, she stared at James like this, the shadows of the fire dancing across his skin. He looked so vulnerable right now, and it made her sad to see him like this: unresponsive and seemingly lifeless.

But if she was going to do what she had to do, it would be best if he stayed in his current state.

She took a deep breath, deciding to set away any considerations of not making James uncomfortable. She didn't care what his body looked like. She didn't care if he was secretive of his wounds. What she did care about, though, is keeping him alive and healthy. And for that, it would be better if she took initiative now and finished before he woke up. She can deal with the trivial consequences later.

She plucked away the feathered needle and then grabbed the bottom edge of his shirt before lifting it up, careful to unpeel his arms and head away before tossing it over to the side. She had seen him without a shirt once, weeks ago, when she first realized he was hurt. Seeing him with the numerous bandages across his body wasn't new, but seeing him without the bandages will be.

Taking another deep breath, she scooted closer to him and focused as she started unwrapping the bandage near his collarbone. Evaline had no idea what wound Marsha was referencing, so she may as well check all of them, starting from the top down.

Minutes passed, and she worked quickly and efficiently, unwrapping bandages, glancing at the injury, and then rewrapping it when it looked normal. Of course, "normal" was relative. Evaline figured James had received these injuries from fighting or running away from bounty hunters, but most of these injuries looked... deliberate. It wasn't a nick of the skin when running away, but rather, a cut with a certain depth that stigmatized something else. Almost like he wasn't able to run away, and he had to take in stabbing after stabbing. Like he was tortured.

The thought made Evaline swirl with emotions. Rage. Fury. Grief. Anguish.

But she had to keep a level-headed mind. She continued to swallow her emotions, instead focusing on the bandages with a clear head, trying to separate James from the injury. It was easier if she thought of him as an infirmary patient rather than a friend she cared about.

More time passed, but Evaline wasn't sure exactly how much. It took longer than anticipated to unwrap and rewrap bandages around his chest and back, especially since she took the liberty to quickly wash some of the dirtier-looking wounds before rewrapping it. Before long, she was finished going through his chest, but she didn't find anything out of the ordinary. Just worrisome cuts and nicely-done stitches.

She glanced down at his pants. If James were a man on Earth, she wouldn't even hesitate to pull off any clothes to help heal a deadly injury. But, well, she had a feeling James wouldn't like it if she took his pants off, and it wasn't in the same level of violation as taking off his shirt and going through his chest wounds.

Figuring she could check half the remaining space left first, Evaline took off his boots and began rolled up the bottom of his pants to his knees. After wrapping and unwrapping a few wounds in this area, Evaline paused at one wound in particular and realized she didn't even need to check any further, because she knew she had just stumbled upon the injury Marsha was referencing.

His leg was infected.

Below his knee on his shin were more stitches that seemed to close a long gash, but unfortunately, it did not stop the bacteria from the wound to spread.

(description of wound)

Spoiler

Unwrapping it, she was almost able to smell it before seeing it. Slightly-green, yellow pus seemed to surround the gash, some of it already seeming to be on the edge of bursting, and others seemed to have already burst and oozed. There was an unnatural swelling that should not be normal for this part of his leg, and the skin looked red and tender to the touch.

Evaline grimaced, and she found herself quietly saying out loud, "Oh James, why didn't you say anything about this?"

She took the vial out of her pocket and then shifted her position to straddle his leg on her thighs. It was time, now. She still couldn't fully trust Marsha that this would truly heal him, but everything inside of her was telling her that she should, especially since she was right when she 'smelled' an infection.

Evaline pulled the cork out of the vial and then gently poured its contents on the infected area, gingerly spreading it around with her finger to create an even layer. It was surprisingly cool to the touch.

James felt like he was waking from a deep sleep, but everything was muddled. His head and his body felt heavy and weighed down, and his eyelids didn't want to open. He thought he heard a voice or voices, but he didn't know if it was a dream or if it was real. Part of his mind was yelling - screaming - for him to get up, but he could barely move.

Why couldn't he move?

He felt his heart begin to race with panic, and he let out a groan - quiet, and deep in his throat. He turned his head to the side, and that was when he felt it.

The cool night air, and something even colder burning in his leg. How could something so cold burn so much? It was like ice, chapping his skin with frostbite.

But there was... someone holding him. Holding his leg.

He was caught again. Oh, gods, he was caught again. Oliver was back, stitching him up just so he could get cut up again. The hollow shell of a man, turning away and then sewing him up with the emotionless, lifeless eyes of someone who'd seen so much that he didn't care anymore.

James tried to fight it, but all he managed to do was let out a pitiful whimper as he turned his head the other way and reached out into nothingness, only finding grass. Maybe this was a dream. Oh, how he wanted it to be. Even if it was a bad one.

Evaline looked up, noticing that James was starting to regain consciousness. He let out a whimper and seemed to reach out for something. She wished she knew what was running through his mind. Clearly he hid many things from her.

"Shhhh, it's okay," she said gently, finishing spreading the salve around the wound. "It's just me. Don't worry. I'm right here."

She wasn't exactly sure if these were the right words to say, but she had to say something to calm him down. Nervous that he would regain consciousness fast enough that he might kick her away in panic, she quickly began to rewrap the wound, being careful to not make it too tight or too loose.

"This might sting a little, but it will help you heal. It's okay. Don't resist."

This might sting a little, but it will help you heal. It's okay. Don't resist.

All he could hear was Oliver's voice. Telling him to cooperate. Don't resist. It will be easier this way. It will be easier. More painless. If he just let it happen. If he stopped fighting. As if what was happening was normal, or justified, or what he deserved - and maybe did deserve it, but he didn't have to just take it.

James pinched his eyes shut and tried to take deep breaths. If he could center himself for a moment, he could fight. He just had to focus on one thing. Surviving. Getting out of this alive. He could deal with the consequences later.

Then a thought occurred to him.

Evaline.

Where was Evaline? What had they done to her?

James forced his eyes open and grit his teeth to push back a cry. He tried to kick with his legs, but he found that everything was still moving slowly like he was underwater. And pain shot up his leg, almost blinding. Instead of kicking, he only managed to straighten it, just a little, before his eyes twisted shut again, and he clenched his jaw tight, hissing in through his teeth.