Owner	Pose
Darkedge	They had travelled to a part of Morgana's kingdom that she doesn't always frequent. It was getting a bit unruly for her taste, by the reports, and it was time to pay a visit. Because she was still getting to know this quiet cave-elf, she brought him along. He was new to the surface and needed the exposure. Now, walking the streets at Morgana's side and wearing clothing the fits much better and hugs closer to his frame, Belynrath spots an usavory thing on a rooftop. It is unhappy with the rule of the Fae Queen, and so a cold iron bolt is set into its crossbow. He acts. A hand reaches out to the dangling crystal at Morgana's ear and he plucks it from her in a wash of magic. The same waves has him shaping it into a slender and lethal throwing dart. In the same motion it takes to throw it, Belynrath shoves Morgana behind himself. The two missiles find flesh at near the same time. Crystal into would be assassin. Cold iron into Belynrath's left upper arm, just in front of where Morgana's heart is. Belynrath draws in an audible hiss of a breath. The assassin rolls off the roof and between the building with a low thud, dead.
Morgana le Fay	Morgana knew she needed to get out this way more. She knew it had begun to run wild. She hadn't realized how bad it was though. When Belynrath reaches for her earring, she freezes and arches a brow. Not because she believes she's in danger but because she's curious about what he's doing. **What are y--** There's no need to finish. She can see what he does next and it has her eyes widening. **Handy tha-!** She's yanked behind him, almost stumbling. And then there's an arrow lodged in his arm. Cold Iron. The ground trembles under her as she reaches out to wrap her arms around him and support him, the sky above them turning pitch black. She's... furious. Not only did one of her own attack, they did so using cold iron! **Belynrath...** The winds kick up around them, swirling to almost hurricane level strengths but seeming to move around them. **This is going to hurt...** Both of them...
Darkedge	Eyes still where the assassin fell, Belynrath brings his uncovered hand, set to grab the bolt and yank it free to toss to the floor. Yes, it hurts. A fact he acknowledges for Morgana as he replies: **Yes it does.** But the send is cold, scrubbed clean of any sense of him so the pain is masked and hidden. The guards split in half. One group forming a ring about their Queen the other going to check on the now very dead assassin.
Morgana le Fay	Except, it's Morgana's fingers that wrap around the shaft of the arrow. **Be still...** She's able, barely, to ignore the searing pain that touching that metal is causing. Instead of pulling out, she shoves it the ret of the way through, knowing it will minimize the damage. The bolt is tossed away from them and her eyes snap to her guards. "Bring the body back to the palace. Search this town for any more of that poison and destroy it!" Green mist swirls around them, teleporting them for the weather beaten town to his room in the palace right beside his bed. **Lay down and be still... I can heal it...** She's... worried. Concerned. Upset he's in pain. **I have to tend to it as I did the others.**
Darkedge	Ordered still, Belynrath complies, and his face wrinkles up in pain as the bolt is shoved through. His mouth opens in an unvoiced scream before his teeth click softly together. At his side, a hand turns into a fist, trembling. When teleported and ordered to lay down, Belynrath does as told, dizzy from the pain and fighitn it back. **Do as you Will, my Lady,** says Belynrath, mind still tense and tight and devoid of sensation.
Morgana le Fay	In short order, Morgana has summoned everything to her side that she needs to properly treat the wound. It won't be comfortable especially since she has to make sure there's no small pieces of the metal stuck. What shocks her, as she begins working on the wound, is the tear that runs down her cheek. When she's sure that there's nothing there, she holds a hand a hand glowing above the wound, numbing the area around it and then shifting to heal the wound as much as she can. That it was a wound made of cold iron means she can't heal it as completely as she would be able to otherwise. Once she's done all she can magically, she sets to work with salves to tend to it mundanely.
Darkedge	And through it all, Belynrath is silent, breathing evenly, eyes closed and body relaxed as she works. Relaxed except for the crease between his brows and his right hand closes into a faintly trembling fist. She said be still, and the silver haired lordling is obeying completely.
Morgana le Fay	When she's done, a cool cloth is lightly pressed to his forward. She's ignoring the fact that this has caused more than one tear to be shed by her. She hated causing this elf, who had been through such hell, so much pain. Especially given that he had just saved her life. **Try to relax now. The worst is passed.** Her voice is so soft and tender.
Darkedge	Cool cloth is unexpected and cool. Silver eyes snap open and focused on Morgana. That's when he spies the lingering moisture of tears. They cause his lips to pull into a light frown. **Yes, my Lady. My thanks to you...** he replies, trying to keep his send from feeling fatigued.