Pain. That's all that he felt, all that he could focus on. Unbearable, unrelenting pain and the struggle to breathe. It was bad enough that he had been tricked! Stabbed through the gut with a bayonet when he thought his quarry down, but to have another bayonet pierce his throat was almost more then he could bear. He should have known better! He pulled the exact same trick on the man he was about to strike down son! Why he thought that man, of all people would go down quietly, he didn't know! Caught up by his arrogance, He was Dying! Of that he was most sure, for the war raged around him and no one seemed to give him a moments notice.
The utter horror and unfairness of it all! He had been one of the Kings most brilliant, if not brutal Colonels. Nicknamed The Butcher for his tactics, he at least got things done and got results. Even if those around him thought him not a gentleman because of it, they relied on him. Went to him when they couldn't get things done themselves. He had joined the Army after his late father had effectively squandered away any inheritance he might have had. Wanting to make things just a tiny bit better for himself. His upbringing had not been the best and it was this same upbringing that shaped him into the man he is now. Hard, Cold and at times, cruel. He had tried to make his way in polite society, but everything he tried, the Upper Crust would always shove him back down. Remind him of his place. He had tried so hard. So hard. Not that that mattered now. None of it mattered. His life force was dripping from his wounds as he managed to pull the bayonet out of his stomach, falling forward to lift a shaky hand to his neck. Feeling the warmth of his blood flow over his hand. This really was the end then.
Everything was going black, as his breathing became harsh, deep in his chest. He lay there, on that field of battle, choking on his own blood as it slowly seeped into his lungs, begging for more time. The light growing ever darker before his eyes. But for a moment, time seemed to stop, for at the last moment of his life, he caught the image of an ethereal Maiden, walking towards him, unscathed by the war around her. She came to stop just at his side and leaned down to gently turn him over, tilting her head as she looked him over, and his eyes met with hers. Was she an Angel? Come to take him to the next place? Had he deserved that?
All he saw, when he looked up at her was peace, and a tiny bit of pity. Pity? What had an angel to feel pity? He realized suddenly, with her nearby that he didn't feel the pain anymore. Not of his wounds, not of his soul. All was gentle, warm. Breathing was eased just the slightest. What was happening? Was this how he would go? Quietly, peacefully, without pain? And with a beautiful woman, to carry him Home? He was suddenly not afraid, or angry anymore. How strange.
He reached out his free hand, begging this beautiful maiden to at least stay with him at his end, so he didn't die alone, and she took it, whispering soft words that he couldn't understand. But he felt comfort in them. With her hand clasped tightly into his own, he allowed his eyes to close slowly. Her face the last thing, he was convinced, he would ever see.
How long he was out for, he had no way of knowing. He was sure that he had died, for he had been to far gone for even the most skilled medic of his time to heal him. How then, had sensation slowly returned to him? The first thing he felt, upon slowly returning to the Light was that pain again and he tried to shy away back into the darkness, away from it. He could feel himself breathing though. Deep, even, smoothly. He took a deep inhale just to be sure and was amazed at how painlessly he breathed. Slowly daring to open his eyes, to go into the light once more, he panicked a moment when he didn't recognize where he was! He was in a bed, overly big for him, with comforters and blankets all around him. In a room that was bright and warm. Listening, he heard no sounds of battle and only the sound of faint running water from nearby. His breathing quickened as his panic took hold firmly and he made to move to get out of the bed, but suddenly, something stopped him. A hand, rested gently against his chest and he looked up to see the beautiful maiden again, sitting by his bedside.
"No, Do not move. You must rest." She whispered softly to him, giving him a small smile. She had dark hair, and sea-green eyes. Her skin pale like the moon and yet she had a grace about her that made him relax just the tiniest bit. If he was in Heaven, then she was his angel. HIS! He was surprised by that sudden flare of possessiveness that shot through him and tried to squelch it. Sitting back into his pillows once more, he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Only garbled, strangled soft sounds that very nearly had him panic again and earned him another scolding from his Angel.
"Don't try to speak. Not yet. Your throat needs to heal. You will hurt yourself worse if you do, and you will be beyond even my fathers skills to help you. You are safe here. Rest. You will be well soon."
He tilted his head, wondering of her. Who was she? Was he dead? His eyes met hers as she giggled softly and shook her head slowly.
"No, you aren't dead. Not yet. But you gave it your best shot." She teased lightly, reaching out to smooth the blankets about his chest. He tilted his head at her and then it hit him! She had answered him! Without him speaking!
Seeing the look he gave her, his Angel blushed and met his startled gaze. "I can...hear you." She lifted a finger and gently tapped her head. "In here." She saw his eyes widen and suddenly shook her head. "No, do not worry. I am only listening to the part where your thoughts lie, so we can communicate until you are better. Your thoughts, your private thoughts are still your own." She let out a soft sigh and bit her lip. "I know you are very confused, but I promise to answer any questions you may have, but for now, you must rest." She made to stand and for some ungodly reason, he didn't want her to leave. One of his hands shot out from under the blankets and grabbed her wrist, making her pause and turn back to him with a soft smile.
"It's alright, William. I promise you are safe here. I will return soon." Her hand alighted upon his, making him relax his grip and taking his hand into her own, giving a light squeeze. "Rest. All will be well." She let go of his hand, and brought hers up to caress his cheek lightly. An action that he almost started at. No one had ever been nice to him like that, or showed any care of him or his person. All anyone had ever cared about was his Rank and what they could get from him. Even the women he had had relations with back in his time, had only ever craved these things and had done what they thought was nessissarry to get what they had wanted from him. No one had ever been tender, just to be tender. With one gentle caress, she had touched something inside him that he didn't even know he had; and it frightened him. But she was HIS, and he would do as she bid. Leaning back into the bed, his eyes slipping closed, it was only as he was fading into dreams that he suddenly realized, she had said his name. He felt badly that he didn't even know hers. Heaven must be an odd place, were his last thought as he slipped into sleep.