Scoundrel's Answer Ch. 07

Garthur dismounted the edge of the wagon with a jingle of his mail, then strode over to the two. "Boy, you're bleeding. Let me take a look at you."

At first, Alan tried to wave the dwarf-lord off, "See to Elizabeth first."

"No, no I'm fine... tend to Alan, please."

Garthur scowled as he looked to both of them in turn, before he finally moved toward Alan. "You first, you've gone and got yourself gashed pretty bad."

Alan's protests were stifled by a wave of weakness. The rush of combat ant the subsequent recovery of his wife was wearing off. He just wearily nodded as Garthur lead him to the wagon. As Elizabeth looked on, Garthur tended to Alan's wound, cleaning, stitching, and then applying his healing magic.

"Afraid I've already used most of my healing strength for the day, but that should do it."

At the dwarf's satisfactory nod, Alan looked down to inspect his friend's handiwork. "Looks like you haven't lost your touch."

"Yeah, but you have. Getting hit twice in one night, Alan? You're getting to be an old man."

Alan chuckled ruefully, then looked up to his wife. She stood near, a distant expression that he'd never seen on her features. When she noticed him, she smiled warmly, and he just wrote the previous expression off as the trauma she had just suffered. Alan reached to take her hand, and she squeezed his in return.

"Come now, love, let Garthur take-"

"No," she cut him off, almost too quickly, which brought a curious look from both Garthur and Alan. She hastily added, as if to reassure them, "Tomorrow, I'll see about having Charity take a look at me."

Alan was confused for a moment, although they certainly knew each other, he wasn't sure when Elizabeth had had an opportunity to really get close to the priestess, but Garthur simply nodded agreement.

"That might be best, being a woman and all." The dwarf shot an uncomfortable look back to Alan. It was his cue.

The old rogue stood and slipped one arm about Elizabeth "Yes, yes that will be best." He forced a smile and began to walk away, when one of the guards caught up to him and Elizabeth.

"Sir Tinsley, we have a carriage ready to take you back home."

Alan looked to his wife, and Elizabeth offered a smile that didn't quite match the radiance he remembered. Still, it was warm enough, "Oh, oh of course."

In short order, the two found themselves ensconced safely within one of the Count's carriages. Left alone with him, Elizabeth looked into his eyes, then reached to clasp his hand in both of hers. She giggled softly, which only brought one of Alan's brows to raise.

"Oh, oh it's nothing dear, I am just so happy to be out of that horrid place."

Alan smiled and rubbed her hands gently in his own. His fingers teased over where her wedding rings had once been, and a frown crossed his features as he realized their absence.

"Is something wrong, love?"

"Your rings," he began, but was quickly silenced when she leaned in to kiss him. He couldn't help but return the kiss. Gentle, at first, loving, but as those precious seconds passed she was the one to deepen it. She was the one whose movements grew more wanting.

When finally she broke the kiss, his Lizzy stared into his eyes. "Rings can be replaced. Just think of the here, the now." She drew his hands forward, to rest at her firm breasts. It was a forwardness so unlike her.

As his hands cupped and gently explored those curves, he admittedly found little reason to complain. Still, "We should wait, at least until we get home."

Her pout was as heart wrenching as ever, at least, but fortunately it was short lived. She threw her arms around his neck, and giggled. "Of course, my love, and when we do, I shall make up for every moment we were apart. I want you to make me yours again."

The embrace made him flinch just a bit, that slash across his chest still tender, and the earlier bolt wound to his shoulder still aching. But Alan could do little more than nod. "Of course, my love, of course."

Elizabeth could make him forget just about anything.