Work Text:
The air is crisp and sweet, dappled sunlight through falling leaves. The gardens are secluded as well, perfect for running about in uninhibited. Derek is trailing behind her at a leisurely pace, and Ifan is a few yards ahead as she runs in and out of the trees freely soaking in the peace and freedom.. In the blink of an eye, the worst pain she’s ever felt shoots through her stomach and the quiet garden is filled with screaming. It feels like ice and fire and electricity all at once, and as the blade is wrenched out there’s blood everywhere. She collapses to her knees, hand clutching uselessly at the wound.
“Your Highness!”
Through the vertigo she looks up and Derek is there at her side, pressing down hard enough to make her scream again. She can feel the tickling of white magic through the pain haze and the blood puddle stops growing any larger. The ground falls away beneath her as he lifts her in his arms. She whimpers at the uncomfortable pinch deep in her stomach.
“Just hold on, we’ll be there in no time Prince Dimitri.” Derek’s voice is soothing, even through the discomfort. She forces her breathing to be even as they race to the infirmary.
The door is opened before them and in a few steps she is deposited gently on the empty bed. There is much fuss around her, curtains are drawn up as Dottie appears at her side. Slowly the pinching pain in her stomach eases and she’s able to breath a sigh of comfort.
“Any more pain?” Dottie’s voice is gentle and even. She shakes her head, and Dottie nods, bustling off somewhere beyond the curtain. She lets herself relax into the bed as best as she can. The pain is just a distant memory now, but her heart is still pounding in her chest. Derek is sheet white at the foot of the bed, staring down at her in horror.
“I’m okay now,” she manages, and he looks away from her guiltily.
Tears start to well up in her eyes, but she does her best to be brave and breathe them away. She wants to run out of the room and crawl into her dad’s arms. The silence is thick and heavy. Dottie returns with a little basin of warm water and a cloth, settling them on the table by the bed.
“We’ll want to get this all out before it dries,” She starts to wipe away the blood gently from her stomach. “You’re being very brave.” She comments it with such pride that Ingrid can hardly help the little smile that spreads across her face. “Oh and a smile too, how very good of you.”
“DIMITRI” King Lambert bursts through the door, nearly wrenching the poor thing from it’s hinges in his haste to be at his son’s side. She jumps at the noise, and he rushes over to smooth over her hair gentle as can be. “Dimitri, are you alright? Are you hurt?”
She squirms uncomfortably under his searching gaze. "Y-Your Majesty."
His eyes fly open at the unspoken admission and she screws her eyes shut and turns away, trying to ignore the way the healer gasps and withdraws.
"Where is Dimitri, Ingrid."
"He's in my room... studying." Her voice is little more than a whisper.
She doesn't dare meet his gaze, half expecting to be declared an enemy of the state then and there. Instead a hand is pressed gently against her forehead. "Are you okay?"
She nods silently, and King Lambert is gone from her side again.
"Lady Ingrid." Dottie's tone is harsh, and Ingrid flinches away from it. "What
were
you thinking?"
The tears spring from her eyes unbidden. "I wa-asn't I'm sorry"
"You are
lucky
you didn't get any worse injured pulling a stunt like that. And you.” Dottie strides over from where she's finished wiping away the blood to stick her finger right in Derek's face. He goes sheet pale at the motion and stands up stiff. “Just what were you thinking using a child for bait like that.”
"I- I didn't-"
"Save it. I don't want your excuses. I want you to go explain to Count Galatea that you almost got his young daughter killed with your hairbrained scheme. And don't you
dare
come back here until you've begged his forgiveness."
The young guardsman sprints from the room and Ingrid sniffles miserably at the scene.
“It was all my id-ea, he didn’t know,”
“Well he should have known. He’s paid to know.” Dottie turns her eyes back on Ingrid and she sinks into the bed further. “Bed rest for a week missy. You’ll have plenty of time to catch up on the studying you dumped on the prince while you’re recovering.”
She didn't dare complain about the admonishment, settling back into the bed wordlessly while Dottie disappeared out the door as well. She wormed her way under the bed, and stared down at the tunic she'd ruined. She really hoped it hadn't been Dimitri's favourite. It’s an agonising wait all alone in the room before Dottie returns with a set of clean clothes and helps her to change, tucking her into the bed properly. An extra blanket is draped over her, and her school books are deposited in one swift motion. After that Dottie disappears again, out into the hall. And in file her first visitors. Her father and King Lambert, and Dimitri, still in her day dress, who races across the room to her side.
“INGRID”
Dimitri launches himself at her as soon as she's in arms length, sticking his wet teary face right in her neck. Her father isn't far behind, staring down worriedly. King Lambert is hovering back in the doorway. Dimitri pulls away with red crying splotches all over his cheeks.
“You don't have to cry, I'm okay now. I just have to lie in bed for a while.” Ingrid reaches up to rub at the tears and Dimitri pulls away to rub them away himself.
“But you got h-hurt because of me”
“Well you didn’t tell him to stab me so how is it your fault?”
“He thought you were me” Dimitri is dangerously close to tears again, lower lip wobbling.
“Well if you feel so bad about it you can keep me company, or else I’ll get lonely, but it isn’t your fault.” She offers her words out like an olive branch, and he happily latches onto it nodding frantically.
“I will I promise.” Dimitri clasped her hands very seriously, and she couldn’t help but beam at him.