Whatever poison had been coating that dagger was ravaging his system. It had been from the moment of injury. The vile toxin weakened his heart and turned his bones brittle, the lightest touch would cause them to fracture. They learned of that effect during surgery, in an attempt to close the hole in his carotid. Medical Unicorns had erected a forcefield to support the weakened ribs. Reman had gone into cardiac arrest a number of times, but was swiftly revived after each incident.

The repeated heart attacks weren't the worst part, because after the next bit of news was delivered, everypony around cried. Brains scans had shown that the Imperial was dead from the neck up, the only activity the doctors had found was... distressing. There were random flickers here and there, but without knowledge of the how his brain worked, nopony could know what they meant. Regardless of that, he wasn't expected to ever awaken.

For three days, three agonizing days, Reman had been laying in a hospital bed. For that time, Summer Glade had not left his side. Visitors came to see the injured lycan, though their behavior was similar to a mourner's. The Elements of Harmony were the first to arrive, they spoke some kind words and wished the Imperial the very best. Not that he had heard them.

The next visitors, those little fillies they'd saved on their way to Ponyville, the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Scootaloo had brought a card, something about being too awesome to spend time in a hospital, Glade thought it was cute. Sweetie Belle's gift was a bit more practical: a scarf, with tiny pictures of the CMC stitched onto it. Applebloom, now her get-well-soon had been the best, if only in usefulness. A healing tonic, made by the filly herself, it was a basic cure for almost any venom, but would be completely ineffective against the poison in Reman's veins.

The Princesses were the next to arrive, which was incredibly surprising to the mare. Luna had been particularly devastated, she must have developed an attachment to the man. As one would expect, Celestia attempted her very best to remain maternal and formal. Any observer could hear the sadness in her voice, it was obvious that she never expected her next meeting with the lycan would be in a hospital. Most certainly, she would have been unable to imagine Reman in this position, if anything, she had anticipated somepony he had an altercation with to be bedridden.

The royal sisters visited at least twice a day, never staying for longer than one hour, never less than forty-five minutes. Their sentiment was to be commended, the Imperial wasn't even under their rule, and yet here they were, waiting for him to open his eyes like the would for anypony else in his position.

The doctors found Reman to be an ideal patient, never complained and his problem was easily treated, if incredibly stubborn. Their magic cleared the poison from his blood without pause, almost too quickly. The effects were treatable, although slowly improving, his bone density was hovering around an estimated forty percent. That number was estimated because they had no way of knowing how dense his bones were before the weakening effects of the toxin took their toll. In even greater news, Reman's neural pathways were improving rapidly, which may lead to increased brain activity. Glade wasn't a doctor, but she knew how wonderful the insight was.

The opinions of the doctors could not be a starker contrast to those of the nursing staff. Those grievances, however, were not the Imperial's fault, rather, the lycanthropic mare was the source. While Glade understood they meant no harm, on an instinctive level, she was forced into a state of territorial aggression. There were rumors that she even snapped at Nurse Tendercare, and that was not in the verbal sense of the word. She hadn't, of course, but the gossipers of Ponyville's Intensive Care Unit would have nothing to do with those that spoke against what they considered interesting. Despite the rumor being false, Glade couldn't help but want to prove them right, show them what a real wolf could to a lamb that got too close.

At the moment, visiting hours had long ended, but nopony on the hospital's payroll had the nerve to attempt to remove the mare form her pack-mate's room. Celestia had tried to coax her out with the promise of food, and partially succeeded, which meant Glade just ran out, snatched the food and water, and bolted back inside her friend's temporary dwelling. The mare told herself it was temporary, anyway. For each of the three days and nights, Glade had attempted to stay awake, if only to avoid seeing Rose, she just couldn't take the mystery mare right now.

Needless to say, she was victorious in her battle, though not of her own efforts. Unbeknownst to Glade, Rose understood her situation, if only because she was furious with Hircine about it. If any of Glade's friends were to see her, they wouldn't be able to recognize the mare. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, the fur under them was matted, she looked underfed, her body's metabolism had burned through her reserves and was cannibalizing on her fat, however little there may be. It was odd to see somepony literally worry herself sick, she would have found her situation to be humorous, were she in any condition to be laughing.

With a plaintive whine, Summer Glade gave into her body's urge to rest. She closed her eyes and was asleep almost immediately.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

“What were you thinking?!” Tempting the wrath of Azura was never a good idea, as the Huntsman was learning firsthand. “Have you gone mad?!” Her voice carried like the shout of an angry god, which was the current case. “Do you have any idea how this might affect him?!” With each new sentence, the Father of Manbeasts flinched, frightened on some deep, hidden level of his being.

“I thought you wanted me to give him a test.” In truth, it had been her idea to send a lycan's spirit to measure Reman's mettle.

“I didn't mean kill him!” Perhaps Hircine had gone a tidbit too far in his game. Azura had chosen the young Imperial's family for greatness, each generation had at least one member who grew to fame. Killing off a member of Azura's favorite clan could have a negative effect on the Daedra's mood.

“He's not dead, he's just... sleeping.” Even Hircine had to admit that his voice was slightly weaker than it usually was. Azura was more powerful than him, and the Huntsman had to show at least an infinitesimal amount of respect for his elder Prince.

“A coma is not sleep, you're lucky the dagger didn't hit him square in the heart!” Sending his most fanatical devotee to the realm of ponies had been an error on his end. Zenammu would do anything to please his master, even kill the Huntsman's Champion. Despite augmenting Reman's strain of lycanthropy to meet his needs, a blow directly to the heart would have meant instant death. The Imperial would pull through, but Hircine could feel his soul ready to be claimed from Aetherius' gateway realm.

“Could you relax? Reman needs only for his body to repair itself before he returns to the waking world.” Both Princes were well aware of this fact, but Azura had felt the need to air her concerns. Not that there as any need, Hircine knew she wouldn't approve of his methods, and really couldn't care. This was the only truly extreme measure he'd taken through this little affair, and likely the only, because the Huntsman knew Reman would bounce back stronger than before. The little Imperial was funny like that, and there would be no small amount of anger directed at the Huntsman. That, combined with the lycan's knowledge of Conjuration and binding rituals could prove annoying in the future.

“And how long will the wait be?” Azura could be very impatient, very passionate about those she cared for. This could not end well for the Father of Manbeasts, not well at all.

“I give it five minutes, Reman is stronger than I like to give him credit for.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#@#

Pain. Searing pain, as though someone had poured molten steel through his veins. That was all Reman felt, but no scream left his throat, no signal of distress would sound. Every being, regardless of species or origin, entered the would blind, deaf, and defenseless. It seemed the rule held true for the soul returning to the body. There was a pressure in his chest, a magical energy swelled from it, Reman's best guess was a barrier spell of some sort. Considering how the ponies were seemingly unable to commit horrendous acts, to his knowledge, it was likely holding up his ribs.

The Imperial's mind immediately turned to the book: The Physicalities of Werewolves. Wolfsbane, when applied to the bones of a transformed lycan, turned them brittle enough to collapse under their own weight. Was that what was happening to him? It seemed very likely, the pain made it fairly obvious.

Reman opened his eyes, the room he was in was very dark. Perhaps it was just his newly activated eyesight that made everything seem darker than it truly was. His ears picked a faint sound, a whimper, in a feminine tone. His neck resisted the turn, but the Imperial managed to make it. Sitting next to him was Summer Glade, sleeping uneasily, she tossed and turned every few seconds, and whined or whimpered in a loose rhythm. Poor thing, she must have worried about him.

He'd let her get her sleep, right now he just wanted to find Hircine, and do his damnedest to strangle him with his own intestines.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Not my best Daedric interaction, but I was half-asleep when I wrote it.