Work Header

the hand that feeds

Work Text:

She watches the woman who found her work. 


Her red hair is long and pulled into a tight tail, likely to keep it from disturbing her. Her hands are sure as she works and every motion is purposeful, ingrained. From what she had gathered, from the moment she woke up and the woman had discovered her, she seemed to be incredibly poised and self assured. She holds herself upright, but appears rather non-threatening.


She could not say if she was actually non-threatening, or if she merely played at it. The woman excluded an incredible amount of power and, when she was close to her, she could nearly taste the energy radiating off of her savior.


It is strange and curious, that she knows so many things, can deduce them based on observation, while not knowing herself or even her own name.


The woman- who had introduced herself as Visenna- told her she had felt an incredible swell of magic that had led her towards where she woke up. Visenna does not know if she had caused the spike or if she was a result of it- her appearing in the area.


As she cannot remember anything before waking up, she also cannot say if she had been anywhere else before that. 


Visenna is working on a herbal remedy for her to drink, meant to help if she sustained any internal injuries and hopefully help in her remembering. Visenna said she is a healer, a druid , the word sparking something in her that she cannot grasp. When asked about why she did not use magic for this, like she had for the knife wound in her abdomen, she answered that using brute force to heal will never work as well as the magic gently encouraging the body to mend itself.


She’d rather give the body a bit of magical help for it to remember how things are supposed to be, help along the natural healing of one's body and speed it up, rather than forcing any one part to heal without going with the body. It always left worse scarring and post-injury complications than a natural and guided healing process.


Visenna seems like a good teacher, and someone who likes to teach as well, likes to pass on the knowledge she herself has already acquired. She considers each question before answering, easing any worries she might have patiently and thoroughly. 


Now, Visenna is not silent but seems to concentrate on her task, humming tunes unknown to her as she works. It sounds like a lullaby, slow and soothing. She closes her eyes, listening to the melody and trying to ignore her pains. 


She does not notice drifting off to sleep.


Wakefulness comes slowly but unrelentingly, Visenna standing by her bedside, a hand on her shoulder, seemingly having softly shaken her awake.


“Your medicine is ready, you have to take it before it’s gotten cold.” Visenna says softly and, now that she is a bit more awake, she can see the steaming cup the woman is holding.


Groggily, she heaves herself up and sits upon the bed’s edge, taking the cup and slowly sipping from it. It tingles inside her mouth but doesn’t burn and, with an encouraging motion from Visenna, she starts to drink until everything is gone.


She suddenly feels warm and relaxed, a tingling feeling spreading through her and into every pore. For a moment the warmth increases before slowly fading away, leaving her weary and exhausted.


In a very motherly sort of gesture, Visenna lays her hand upon her forehead, before slowly guiding her down into the bed again. “How are you feeling now?”


It takes a bit before she finds her tongue again and murmurs, “Good.” She is surprised that she actually means it, there is no lingering pain anymore, not from her scrapes nor her half healed wound. “It does not hurt anymore.”


“That’s good,” Visenna whispers, brushing some of her hair out of her face. “Do you remember anything yet?”


She thinks, but everything is foggy except for the deep, deep ache in her heart, as though an important piece of her is missing. Shaking her head slightly she just barely keeps the tear threatening to spill at bay. 


Visenna shushes her, “It’s alright dear, I am sure it will come back to you in time.”


“Do you truly think so?” She whispers and Visenna nods.


“Of course, memories are never truly gone, and I will help you as best as I am able.” Visenna smiles softly, “I am a healer after all.”


Something sad seems to hide in Visenna’s eyes as she speaks, but it is gone as quickly as it had appeared.


“You can help me here if you want, for as long as you are healing. I could always use another set of hands.” Visenna murmurs while she smoothes out some of the wrinkles in her dress, not looking at her face.


She thinks about it, and maybe she would like that, she does not know what to do else after all. It seems to be her best opportunity at this point in time and she nods. “I think that I would enjoy that if you would be amenable, at least for now or until I can remember.”


“Of course.”  Visenna nods at her, “I also think that it might have been you I sensed the magic from, we could try and see if I could teach you about this as well.”


She mulls this over. If she truly was responsible for this then she should learn to harness her magic, and maybe if this was the reason that she had lost herself it might be the way to get her memories back. “Yes, thank you Visenna.”


It seems the right thing to say, with the way the woman smiles at her. 


“What about a name?” She has been thinking about this too, but nothing comes to her mind regardless of how long she tries and ponders over it. “I have to go by a name haven’t I? Even if it later turns out to not be my real name.”


Visenna nods, and her voice is understanding, “Take as long as you need, there is no rush and I can help you if you need it.” With that she stands and leaves her with her thoughts.


She hears her shifting around before leaving the room, and after some time she returns back with her red hair open across her shoulder, and lit candles in her hands. She places them around the room, which seems instantly brighter. She had not realized how dark it had become.


Her task complete, Visenna comes back to her side, and she slowly realizes that she has a cloth in her hand, which she uses to wipe the sweat from her face. Oh, she did not notice that she started sweating. 


“Your body is healing, spurred on by my potion, which is why you have some symptoms of fever.” 


She nods, slowly, everything seeming hazy and unfocused.


“I also thought a bit but- what do you think of the name Etta for now?”


She mulls this over, even though her thoughts all feel slow, and the name fits somehow in a way she cannot explain. Maybe her real name was similar to that one but the thought fades away, as does everything else.


The last thing she hears from beyond her haze is a low, “Sleep well.” Before she succumbs to unconsciousness.