"I didn't know they had thorns."

"Epiny!" Doc cried out in the high-pitched ton of voice he adopted when he couldn't find me.
Wind rushed by me, driving the cold passed my furs into my bones and scattered the unlucky half-bloomed winter flowers across the icy forest floor. I cupped my hands beneath my under arms and looked up toward my goal. Three fully bloomed, and still attached, winter flowers hung precariously from a rigid branch of an Azarah tree before me. (above my head.) My father had described the flower my mother used to bring him during winter when he was with Joffrey in Kingstown. In my imagination, they looked much like these.
"I dried them and kept them inbetween the pages of my bible." He longingly told me once when I was eight and burning with fever. I don't think he knew I was lucid enough to understand him at that moment.
My father has always been reserved around me, but when my illness burned me and kept me bed-ridden for days he would sometimes sit beside me and talk. He would read me stories and poems, and once in awhile he would open up and tell me something about himself. King Joffrey's war kept him away for years at a time, so he was more stranger than father when he first came to see me when Doc discovered my illness at eight seasons.

I lay shivering beneath my covers when I first heard his voice.
"Poppy! She's eight!" He screamed at Doc, waking me.
"But Sir, she complains of pain and cannot sleep. Without rest the fever will only worsen." Doc's smooth feminine voice rebuked.
For a long while I heard nothing and I was too weary to open my eye lids until Doc tried to make me drink more poppy milk. I coughed as Doc forced the thick, meaty yuck down my throat. I felt sick and rolled over to puke off the side of the bed. It was unlike Doc to leave me in such a vulnerable position, un- blanketed and hanging halfway off the bed, after I had finished retching. I realized It wasn't Doc who forced me to drink, but my father when I heard him crying beside me. I opened my eyes slightly and quickly closed them when the candle light seemed as intense as the sun and made my head throb. I moaned.


His callused hands grasped my shoulders and gently uprighted my frail body. I struggled to sit up, but gave up when I realized I didnt have the strength. What strength I did have was being absorbed by the poppy and it would soon put me into a deep sleep where I would embarass my father by pissing the bed. The thought of such embarassment was enough to startle me into a half lying, half sitting position with my chin on my bony chest. I sat awhile and struggled with sleep when I heard him speaking of my mother.
"... six petals, four for the years we couldn't be together, and two for the year you were born." Tears choked him and it felt like an hour before he spoke again.
"We should have been together, there should be a dozen more petals in here." I heard him slam something on the table beside me. The noise startled me and my head slid back down onto my pillow.
"I'm sorry." he whispered, but I wasn't sure if it was for my mothers death, the war, or the noise he made.

"Epiny!" Doc's voice carried me away from my day dream. I looked off toward my fathers estate. I couldn't see the building from my vantage point, but I could see the smoke rising from the now-working chimney.
"Epiny!" Doc called out again. "Epiny! Please come home!" I could hear the worry building in his voice and I knew I didn't have much time left 'till he came searching for me. I needed to rush. I looked back up at the blue-white flowers dancing in the wind above my head and absently caressed my fathers bible in my back pocket.
"A dozen more..." I said to myself.




Chapter 2.

I awoke later that day to see Doc's worried face staring at me. I felt a jolt and realized he was running with me cradled in his arms.
"Epiny" He asked me between rapid breaths. "Are you alright?" I wondered what he was so worried about.
"I'm fine." Then I remembered the flowers I had been trying to retrieve when my vision began to dim.
"The flowers?" I asked Doc anxiously, I didn't care about anything but the flowers at that moment.
"Did I get the flowers?" I asked him again before he had a chance to respond. He slowed his pace, came to a walk,  and looked me in the eyes; I couldn't tell if i saw disappointment behind those brown eyes, or anger. I could definitely see he was annoyed though; there was no mistaking Doc's annoyed look he gets whenever he's upset about something.
"Flowers?" The tone of his voice was pure rebuke. His face was now crinkled beyond recognition.
"I was picking azarah flowers for father." I tried to look him in the eyes when I answered, but I couldn't see them behind the mass of gray lashes and mutant crows feet. His face softened a bit when I spoke and he picked up his pace to a slow jog.
The warmth from his body was making me sleepy, despite the constant jolting from his jog. I was on the brink of sleep when I remembered the flowers again.
"Did I get them?" I asked in a sleepy drawl.
"Them what?" He scoffed; still a bit annoyed with me.
"The" I faltered in my sleepiness for a moment. "flowers."
"I tucked them in your coat pocket." I reached into my pocket to make sure and I was rewarded with a deep prick from a thorn on the stem. I yelped quietly; as much as my relaxed mind could muster.
"I didn't know they had thorns." I whimpered and pulled my finger out of my pocket to suck the blood from it as Doc giggled slightly. It was bleeding badly for such a small wound. Doc noticed the blood at the same moment I did and a look of worry replaced his annoyence and he picked up his pace. I stuck my finger in my mouth and tried to sleep now that my mind was no longer worrying over the flowers.

I had nearly given up on sleep when he suddenly stopped. I opened my eyes just in time to see the back kitchen door of my fathers mansion swing open.
"We're here." he announced as he shook me awake and lowered my feet towards the ground. I hadn't even realized we were running towards home. My head swooned when my feet touched the ground and for a moment I couldn't see anything but blackness. Bees buzzed in my ears and only half of what Doc was trying to say reached me.
"Epiny?" I felt strong hands snatch me from gravity and voilently pull me forward.
"I must have set her down too quickly." I heard Doc say; his voice thick with worry.
"Where the fuck was she?" My father yelled; more at me than Doc, but I ignored it. He was always angry at me for something lately.
"I found her-"
"Never mind! Take her to her room and make sure she's warm." I felt doc scoop me into his arms once again.
"Yes sir." Doc accentuated his last word.
"I'm going to Kingstown to report on Moonglow's well-being. There have been two more raids-" My father said before I lost track in my barely lucid mind. I felt doc scoop me into his arms once again and quickly fell into a deep sleep.


Even before I opened my eyes I knew Doc had forced me to drink poppy. I could smell the sickly odor of puke mixed with poppy milk beside my bed and hear Doc snoring outside my bedroom door. My mind was quite alert by the time my body un-stiffened enough to move. I shifted my legs slightly and a wave of sickening stale urine wafted up from under the covers. I moaned.

Doc was beside my bed in an instant.
"Good morning, Epiny." He chuckled cheerfully. His face was red and puffy and I could smell something odd on his breath.
"Morning?" I felt my dry lower lip rip when it resisted movement but I was already in too much pain to care. My joints ached horribly and movement seemed to intensify and spread pain through my muscles.
"How long have I slept?" It must have been awhile because I had never quite hurt this badly before.
"Well" He laughed loudly."All day and half the night." My look must have been amusing because he laughed again.
I sat in my sticky bed; too shocked to move or speak. I had never slept that long before; although I could have easily, Doc never allowed it. He always said that I may never wake if I slept too long and I believed him. When I slept things happened to me.
"That explains why I can't remember anything of yesterday." I growled at him.
He laughed loudly once again, this time he tossed his head back and nearly toppled over with the effort.
Horrified, I screamed at him. "You're drunk!" He suddenly seemed to regain his composure. "and you let me sleep too long!"
"No." He said flatly. "I'm intoxicated." He laughter was so loud it hurt my ears.
"Shut up! Be quiet!" I suddenly remembered my father would probably be sleeping. "You're going to wake my father!"
"Good. I'm thirsty for more drink." He braced himself on my bed before screaming. "Wake up daddy! and get me a fuckin' drink!" He laughed.
"Doc, what has gotten into you?" The shock of everything clearly audible in my words.
"Burbon. Ha!" I was getting sick of his laughter. "And your father ain't here. He's gone to Kingstown for some meetin' of sorts."
"Shut the fuck up!" I hadn't meant to yell so loudly or harshly, but I couldn't believe he was being so uncaring."When my father gets back I'll have him fire you if you don't stop laughing." I said; even though I knew my father would never fire Doc. He had been with my father since the beginning of Joffrey's war and afterward my father hired him as a personal bodyguard, cook, and my nurse.

His mood changed instantly and he looked around himself like a mouse that had just been plopped into a snakes cage.
"I'm so sorry Epiny." He pushed himself away from my bed and brought his hand up to his nose. Embarrassment tinted my cheeks when I realized he smelled my urine.
"I already have a bath made up for you in the kitchen." He said, sorrow tinging every word. "But it's probably cold by now. I'm sorry."
I was so embarrassed; I couldn't bring myself to look at him, I just nodded. He pulled the covers off me and I could see the stains where I had wet myself more than once. I physically winced and he noticed.
"Don't worry, sweet. It's just the poppy." His attempt at comforting me was actually working.
"I hate that stuff." I hated how my voice sounded so childlike. He lifted me easily and carried me out of my room and into the kitchen where, as he said, a cold bath waited for me.

He clumsily set me down beside it and began to undress me. He slid my night gown off my shoulders and it fell to the floor leaving me bare, I felt the cold instantly. I could see the alcohol in his eyes as he stared at my naked body. Looking  down at myself, I wondered what he could possibly be attracted to. My breasts were barely visible behind my cold nipples, ribs shown through all the way up to my collar, my thighs were stained yellow from piss and I could barely hold myself upright. Yet he licked his lips and stole glances at me as he untied my slippers.

I had heard my father and his friends jesting over women before. They thought we were nothing but pets for abuse and pleasure. They called us "whores" and "cunts" and spoke of owning us as if we were nothing more than dolls. It sickened me to realize a man whom I considered a good friend and my guardian could think of me in such a way. He pulled my last slipper off and stood to lift me into the tub. I could see the hesitation in his movement when he reached out for me. I felt as though I might puke.
"Get out." I said harshly. He quickly pulled his hands back and looked physically wounded when I stared him in the eye. I could see the thoughts whirling through his drunken head and knew instantly that our relationship would probably never recover.

Without a single word he skulked out of the kitchen to leave me to bathe myself.