Rating: Low...I think. @_@;
The young girl ran at full speed through the castle hallways, sharply turning past corners, bracing herself against walls if she happened to be going too fast to stop before she twisted down another foyer. Though the long ends of ebony were clasped within a light silver clasp, it still sailed up behind her in her hurry. The calls of "Wait!" and "Your highness!" and any other hail to stop her for her audience and attention were dismissed with an apologetic glance back or none at all. The moment that she had heard that Zidane was returned to the castle in a state quite unlike the one he had left in, Dagger was scared. Or maybe not so scared as worried, it was hard to distinguish. Especially when she knew she shouldn't have been doing either. They had taken care of him and he was only resting, after all.
When she finally skidded to a stop outside the door to his usual room, she leaned heavily against it, hands taking the knob and opening it slowly to draw a thin line of light across the cream rug. In the warm, yellow, glow of the room's light, Dagger breathed a quiet sigh of relief as she saw his form resting within the soft folds of the dark azure blanket. She walked up and sat at the bedside, sinking slightly into the soft mattress as she leaned slightly over him to brush the pale locks of gold from his face. They had taken care of most of his external wounds, reviving his body to proper form and function, but he still seemed slightly battered from all that he had endured.
Whispering a quiet song of Cura, soft, white, winds flowed into him, carrying their power with them. He was all right. She knew, then, that she should have left and allowed him to rest. But at least for a little while, she wanted to stay and watch him breathe in sweet repose. He looked so innocent and meek when he wasn't skirt chasing and talking, and before she knew it, she was singing. Humming that melody, quietly, just above a whisper.