Finally they took him out and patted him dry, letting him float in the air using his Not-flyer, until the water all evaporated.
There was a bustle from the other room, so when Ali decided he was good for it, he got to put on loose and flowing “invalid” clothes, made by the magical amulet around his neck, which looked like silk. All in white. Tor changed the color to deep red as he floated, one half brown almost. It was cheery and would hide any blood that leaked from the wounds.
Ali just smiled, thinking he was being playful and taking it as a good sign. Richard grunted softly, but didn't mention his real thoughts on it openly.
“Steward, bring me my brown trousers.” He muttered instead. An old joke, about facing a battle and hiding the results.
Tor nodded.
“I can't use a healing device right now. So, for the time being, that's pretty much the size of it. On the good side, I don't think I can get an infection of any kind, so no huge thing.” It really wasn't. Sometimes it paid to be a freakish semi-Ancient or whatever the heck he was.
The noise had been Rolph and Denno coming in with food. Trice sat at the table, looking at the plate in front of her, loaded with goodies. It looked and smelled good, but Tor noticed his place had a small bowl of oatmeal. Plain. He sighed, but that really was about the right speed for now. Throwing up would be…
Bad at the moment.
He hovered next to the table instead of sitting. The sores hurt less that way. Plus the table was high enough for it. He could work the spoon on his own, thank goodness, even though Ali looked like she wanted to do it for him. He winked at her and ate, suddenly not feeling hungry at all. He got the food down though.
Denno looked at him floating and shook his head.
“So, that doesn't take energy from you? Not at all?” He waved in a general way at the air under Tor’s feet.
“No… Why?”
“Oh, well, it might be more comfortable for you to sleep using that for a few days then. We used to do that, when we went into space. Just float weightless to sleep. Most relaxing to tell the truth. You don't want to do it forever, because you need to move and get your health back, but for a few days it will let you get real rest.” The look on his face was baffled though, almost like he was humoring Tor.
“Oh, right. You aren't mocking me, you just don't think that this is really magic. Um, seriously, can't you just think of it as a different kind of science? If I have it right it really is, or maybe a technology, but the basic rules really are the same.,”
Denno sighed and shook his head slowly.
“No. I know it's strange, but… I just can't. I've never been able to. Green and I have had this conversation a thousand times, literally, and it's just something I have to accept, I can't see it. I mean, I see you floating there, but I keep secretly looking for wires or a trick. I was programmed not to believe in such things. I never really knew why even. Most of us have something like that though. Personally I think the scientists where just trying to act cool at the time. Show off what they could do.”
Rolph snagged a piece of fruit from Trice's plate, strawberry it looked like and munched for a second.
“Cool? Tor says that sometimes. What does it mean? I always figured it was a Two Bends thing…”
The Ancient shook his head a little.
“No, not at all, I don't believe. It's an old, old word, it translates both into “cold” or possibly chilly, and was used to signify “good” or “pleasant” I'm surprised he knows it…” The man shrugged.
“Or maybe not. Even clones and twins share thoughts and memories at times. Another thing I didn't believe in for a long time, but Burks is Tor. I suppose it almost has to happen, especially if they spend any time together at all.”
The Prince nodded as if that actually made sense, and Tor was about to ask more, but he noticed the Trice wasn't eating. His little bowl was nearly empty, but the only food gone from her plate was what Rolph had taken.
“Trice…” He waved gently at her plate. “Eat something.”
He sounded bored, bland and sleepy. That was pretty accurate so he smiled.
“Because I'm going to sleep soon, whether I want to or not and we need to plan things out tomorrow. So… Do it or I'll…” He really couldn't do anything could he. Even pouting wouldn't work, since he was about to fall asleep at the table, lights on in the room or not.
So he waved at her instead.
“Or I'll make sure you get assigned all the really cruddy jobs from Smythe.”
It was lame, but she forced a smile and took a bite of some kind of green melon. It looked good, but he really couldn't eat any more just then. Instead he floated over to a corner and closed his eyes. It really was comfortable, just floating like that. Hours later, maybe longer, the sun hit him in the eye as it came through the window. He was still tired, exhausted and sore, but felt all right otherwise.
Until he tried to land on his feet. That did not work at all. He stopped the fall by triggering the Not-flyer again though and decided to just try and do what he could for a while, instead of forcing himself into manic levels of work. It was lazy, but…
Yeah.
He really did want to live.
Smiling he went to the bathroom and shaved, which took an hour, and a lot of work. He looked thin in the mirror, haggard and young. Like a slightly funny looking little boy that someone had forgotten to feed for a while. His stomach made a noise that felt far away, sounded like that too. He grinned, at least his body knew what it wanted. Food. He made himself finish cleaning up first and dressed in more loose silk clothing. It didn't look very professional, or adult, but it also didn't rub in any inconvenient places.
Ali wasn't in the bed, but it had clearly been slept in, so Tor floated to the door, hoping to score some food, if possible. Really, it should be, but he knew he might have to go get it himself. It wasn't like there would be servants standing around to wait on him. Really, there simply shouldn't be. He wasn't that important.
It took a second for him to work the door and he heard the urgent, but low, voices coming from in front of his door before he got it open all the way. The scene was funny, in a way. Trice stood behind Marvin Ward, on his countess’s arm, and the giant man whispered to a girl with short hair, a real fighters cut, leaving soft brown fuzz only, who had her hands on her hips and seemed to be about ready to throw down with the man.
“Go away. I heard what you did to him, and if you try it again, I'll… well, I may be your Squire Sir Patricia, but if you think I won't-”
Trice didn't move or say anything, but Maria's eyes went wide when he floated out and the girl stopped talking and looked back at him. She looked familiar, but taller than when they'd last met.
“Tor!” Gemma spun and started to grab him up in a hug, but didn't, turning back to the “threat” at hand.
She was a good Squire after all. Better at it apparently than he'd ever been. Or maybe not, since she was openly defying her Knight to protect him. Oops. Tor patted her on the back, getting her to look at him. She spoke quickly her voice low. Deadly.
Very cute. She was only thirteen. Tor blinked then and nearly shook his head. No, that was wrong, she had to be fourteen now. An adult.
“Run Tor, I'll hold them here.” It wasn't said seriously though, a hint of playfulness coming into her voice.
Good.
Maria sank to her knees and started to go all the way down to the floor, Marvin started to follow, but Tor held his hand out, the left one. The move was weak, but the Count stopped.
“Lets… not. I can't do the whole bowing and scraping thing today, maybe not for a while, and I no doubt owe the larger portion of the apologies all around. Can we just call it good and pretend the whole incident just didn't happen, and you know, um, not wake me up like that anymore please, Maria?”