Merwyn stood at the bedroom door, a slender arm leaned against the frame, watching the man sleep. The late-summer sun slanted in the small cottage window, perfectly illuminating the bed and the figure within, casting a faint glow over the scene.
"Don't linger," said a low voice over her shoulder, and she turned her head to see the weathered face of her father. "Leave the man alone to rest." He ambled along the hallway, leaving her in his disapproving wake.
"I'm not bothering him," she whispered, looking back at the bed. The slumbering figure was tall, his feet hanging slightly over the foot of the bed. Long, waving locks of midnight-black were cast over the pillow, and his rugged, sun-tanned features were covered in several days' worth of black scruff. Merwyn smiled.
She stood there until the sun had sunk behind the rolling western hills. And then she stepped into the tiny bedroom, and lit the lantern on the bedside table. As she adjusted the flame, the man stirred. His eyes fluttered, he took a ragged breath, and then he moaned in pain.
"Shh," she whispered, moving quickly to the side of the bed. "Rest easy, milord. You were gravely wounded."
The man blinked his dark-grey eyes, staring up in confusion. "What? Where am I?" he mumbled, his hands moving over the blankets restlessly.
The young woman smiled again, sitting slowly and cautiously on the edge of the bed. Her rich, golden hair shone in the lamplight, and her jade-green eyes glimmered. "Just a humble croft of the western Mark, milord. You stumbled onto our doorstep not three days ago, bleeding badly."
The man's eyes found her face, and he seemed to calm at the sight of her. His breathing steadied, and he swallowed with difficulty. "Might I have some water?"
"Of course!" She quickly poured him a cup from the pitcher on the bedside table, and held it to his lips, her other hand gently holding the back of his head. He drank slowly, pausing often, before nodding and collapsing back onto the pillow.
"Thank you, my lady," he panted wearily, closing his eyes for a moment before looking up at her again. "What is your name?"
"Merwyn," she replied softly, laying a soft, comforting hand over his.
"Thank you, Merwyn," he said, and smiled.
