55- Oc Oneshots - Week Five

Instructions

Whoop whoop week five! Sorry i didn't get this out last week, I had big choir stuff. I was in so much pain,,, But I'm not kidding you when I tell you I only had an hour to myself last thursday. Sigh. For those who don't know, each week I have to write something for Language Arts using vocab words. I write about my characters :3 The writing is a little awkward though, as I have to shove big words into my work and I submit my rough draft. Since this is a oneshot, you don't need to read older ones (though if you read the one directly before this, you would have more context for this one). If you click, you can see some realistic portraits I did of Savani and Verden (golly verden looks so amazing when he's all cleaned up. If you just imagine him without the cute collar with his hair down and his eyes a bit more dead, then you've got the Verden in this oneshot). I'd like to mention that this oneshot is now outdated, as I've decided that his condition would be much worse after everything he's been through. So what you are about to read is no longer lore-accurate, but it's still nice. Anyways, happy reading! - The bed was soft, softer than Verden ever remembered beds being. Despite the curtains drawn over the windows, the daylight was garish, ubiquitous. Even so, the room was a utopia of liberty, a place where he knew he wouldn’t be locked away or left all by himself. He slowly sat up, the effort tantamount to hoisting a horse over his shoulder. Verden lifted a frail hand and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm, trying to chase away the lethargy. His eyes slowly flitted around the room, landing on Savani, his liaison to freedom. She was sedentary in an old chair, stitching up a tear in a dark cloak. She looked over as Verden carefully moved to sit on the edge of the bed, testing his muscles and the notion of autonomy, this new recourse. “Don’t push yourself,” she advised, “you were out like a dormouse for two days. That, and you’re still recovering.” He nodded, but the words went right over his head. After a few moments, he tentatively touched his feet to the floorboards. The warmth from the wood felt like it proliferated through his body, though he knew it was just in his feet. Verden was quiet for a moment, then spoke- less than vociferously-, “I want to stand.” It felt unnatural to vocalize his wants after all this time, especially impetuous ones. Savani considered his words for a minute, nodded, set down her work, and casually approached. “We’re going to go slow and careful, alright?” It was more of a warning than anything. She stretched out her arms, palms up. Verden held onto her forearms and pushed himself up, failing to squelch a low whimper. His face scrunched with the effort of holding himself, the room spinning. A few moments passed before his legs started trembling, but he refused to let himself fall and held tighter to Savani with a shockingly tenacious grip. “I don’t mean to be bureaucratic, but you should sit down now. You don’t want to hurt yourself.” Verden wanted to shake his head, wanted to test his resilience, but he appreciated how solicitous she was being and lowered himself back down. They were silent for a long while before Verden said, “Thanks.” Savani scoffed quietly, shaking her head. “Don’t thank me, not yet. You can thank me when you’re fully recovered.”