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"It’s true that I’m strong enough," Nyrielle acknowledged. "But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t need to be there. "Tonight is her victory, and yours as well I suppose, since you defeated Lord Ritchel and his guards. Tomorrow, we must settle matters before we can leave, and her voice must be heard."

"Why? Why does she have to speak?" Talauia asked. "You’re her ’Mistress’ aren’t you?

Auntie Ashlynn says that she’s like your wife, that forming a pact with you was like marrying you.

So if you’re married to her then you know what she wants.

You know what she’d say," the agitated witch said, each word coming faster and faster than the one before it.

"So honor her," Talauia said, folding her arms across her chest. "If you’re married, then honor the woman you married by saying whatever she would say instead of what you want to say. Speak in her place while she goes to get healed!"

Behind her, Virve stood open mouthed in shock, unable to comprehend the audacity of the Thistle Witch to chastise Lady Nyrielle, especially the way she had.

For a moment, she’d reached out to pull Talauia back, but once the hovering witch started talking about Ashlynn and Lady Nyrielle being married, she was afraid that if she interrupted, it would only make things worse and so her hand hovered in the air almost entirely forgotten as Virve tried to figure out how she could save the Thistle Witch from her own actions.

Ignatious, on the other hand, was far too familiar with the kind of grief and anxiety that gripped people when their loved ones lay injured in the healer’s tent.

He’d seen it from brothers in arms during the war, from mothers fretting over their husbands and fathers lashing out with threats of bloody murder for whoever had hurt their sons.

And now, seeing that same uncontrolled outpouring from the Thistle Witch told him everything he needed to know about how important Ashlynn was to the older witch.

"Madame Talauai," Ignatious said calmly, giving Heila’s hand a soothing squeeze as he spoke before Nyrielle could respond.

"Mistress Nyrielle loves Lady Ashlynn more than life itself.

So if she needs Ashlynn here tomorrow night, before you scold her, you should ask her why.

You both care for Lady Ashlynn, so let that be a bridge between you instead of a bone of contention. "

"It seems my wayward progeny has remembered that he’s a priest," Nyrielle said, taking a deep breath in the moment that Ignatious had given her and forcing herself to respond calmly. Without realizing it, her hands had already elongated into sharp claws, and she’d been ready to put the Thistle Witch in her place with the simple act of superior strength that she seemed to feel would be so effective.

But Ignatious was right. They both cared for Ashlynn, and it was hard to blame the agitated witch for trying to do the best she could to heal the person they both cared for.

"You say I should honor her," Nyrielle said. "But what I’m trying to do is much, much harder than that. I’m trying to respect her, and respect her wishes," she said, stepping forward to take a place at Ashlynn’s bedside. Slowly, Nyrielle sliced open the tip of her finger and used it to draw a pair of sharp, angular glyphs on Ashlynn’s brow.

"You say I should speak the words she would speak, but I do not know them," Nyrielle said softly. "She wants to try a different way. A way that’s much, much harder than a simple contest of strength and dominance. She wants to do what I haven’t been able to do for centuries, and part of that has to be done tomorrow night. "

"Blood Pact: Vitality’s Gift," Nyrielle intoned, surrounding herself and Ashlynn with a brilliant crimson glow as she poured all of the strength she could offer into Ashlynn’s body.

It wouldn’t be enough to heal Ashlynn’s wounds, not when those wounds covered so much of her body, but by the time night fell again, she would likely be strong enough to join Nyrielle in holding court, even if she had to be carried there.

When the glow faded, Nyrielle’s face looked pale and drawn, and her fangs had begun peeking out from her pale, thin lips. The transformation was so sudden that both Virve and Talauia retreated in shock and a small measure of fear before Virve strode forward to kneel at Nyrielle’s feet.

"My Lady," she said, bowing her head low.

"I should have been at Lady Ashlynn’s side tonight.

I failed her and failed in the mission you gave me.

My blood and life are yours to claim if it will slake your thirst and help you to care for Lady Ashlynn," she said, turning her head to the side and baring her neck.

"I’ve already given Ashlynn the strength she needs," Nyrielle explained.

"Ashlynn has always been able to draw on my strength through our bond in times of great need, but she refuses to do so, even when she is pushed to this extent, because she understands the toll it takes on me. This is not healing, but since she cannot draw upon the strength of the forest to accelerate her own recovery, and she will not willingly draw on me, then just this once, I will do this for her, even if she doesn’t ask. "

"Besides, if I feed from you," Nyrielle said, turning toward the door and visibly holding herself back from pouncing on Virve’s exposed neck.

"Who will protect my darling while the sun is up?

Watch over her, Virve. There are others more deserving of becoming my meal tonight," she said, turning away from Ashlynn and darting through the door in a cloud of dark, figure-shrouding mist as she began to hunt.

With a -THUMP-, Talauia’s wings stopped beating as she dropped to the ground, landing flat on her backside while her mind finally caught up to how close she’d come to turning herself into Nyrielle’s next meal.

It took several minutes before her heart calmed enough for her to get back to her feet and check on Ashlynn’s health.

The wounds didn’t look much better, but when Talauia pulled back the bandages, she found a faint, crimson glow clinging to Ashlynn’s frost-burned flesh, slowly infusing it with the strength that Nyrielle had shared with her lover.

And, more importantly, she found a faint smile on Ashlynn’s face, as if she were wrapped in her lover’s tender embrace and enjoying blissful dreams.