Krujha was beside him in an instant, eyes scanning for any injury. His little hands were trembling, and his eyelids kept flickering closed, as if they were fighting sleep. But when Krujha placed a hand on his clammy forehead, he groaned and weakly tried to push him away, which was a strange relief. It meant he was at least aware of what was going on around him. “I’m fine. It’s just—I told you.”
“You didn’t say it would be like this,” Krujha sighed. “You can’t ride a horse in this state.”
“Just need a nap,” Alwyn mumbled, his eyes losing focus again. Krujha sighed, glancing around. They were in a rocky plain very similar to where they’d just been, but there were more trees here. That was a good sign, as the area near Drol Kuggradh was marginally more forested, but it also meant that he needed to find some high ground to truly get their bearings.
“Stay right here anddon’t move,” he said firmly. Alwyn nodded, although his eyes had slipped closed. “I’m going to see if I can get a better idea of where we are. I’ll come right back, but you can rest while I’m looking. Okay?”
Alwyn mumbled something in reply, but it was too soft for Krujha to understand. The elf was clearly too tired to go anywhere, though, so he should be alright. He tethered the horses to a tree, then after a beat of consideration, carried Alwyn over to sit up against its trunk to rest more comfortably. Hethought the elf might protest at being lifted into Krujha’s arms, but he barely even seemed to notice.
That worried him. If he was already so deeply asleep that he didn’t realize he was being carried away, he would be in no position to defend himself. It meant Krujha would just have to be quick about it, then.
He first headed due east, toward the sun, looking for any sign of the myriad roads that would eventually lead to Drol Kuggradh. If they had gone more northeast than east, though, then all the roads would likely be out of sight, as the majority of the city’s trade came from the south.
The terrain was hilly enough that he couldn’t see terribly far into the distance, but there were no signs of a road. The abundance of hills meant they had moved due east, just not as far as Krujha had first thought. If they veered slightly north, while keeping that eastern course, they would eventually run into a road that led north toward Drol Kuggradh.
He returned to where Alwyn was resting, relieved to find him and the horses unmoved. The horses had settled after their initial fright and were now grazing around Alwyn, who was leaning against the tree in the exact position Krujha had left him. His chest rose and fell slowly in the deep rhythm of sleep; and his mousy brown hair, normally so neat, was tousled and messy. The sun lightly touched his skin, and the warm pink of his lips was slightly parted.
Krujha stood and stared at him for a long moment. Elves were all beautiful creatures, but something about the morning sun on Alwyn’s sleeping form had him frozen in place, his heart hammering away in his chest. His tiny frame was so delicate and precious. And as cute as his eternal scowl was, now that his face was relaxed in sleep, it struck Krujha that he was somehow still as ethereally lovely as every other elf he’d ever laid eyes on.
It didn’t seem fair that the elves hoarded so much beauty to themselves. The thought made him chuckle, just enough to snap him out of his strange reverie, and he stepped closer to Alwyn.
“Ready to ride?” he asked, kneeling down beside the elf. Alwyn barely stirred; his eyes fluttered open briefly, but he seemed to barely register Krujha’s presence. Krujha frowned. He was clearly in no state to be traveling.
Alwyn’s magic had just halved their travel, so taking some time for him to rest wouldn’t be a terrible loss. Still, it would be better if they were closer to a road, rather than out in the wilderness. Krujha sighed and straightened up. They could spare another hour or so. After that, he’d have to figure out how to get Alwyn onto his horse, even if he had to lead it himself.
He sat down beside the sleeping elf and looked out at the field of grass and rocks and trees around them. The sky was a clear, pale blue; the air was still cold from the night, but the sun was starting to warm him up. Far in the distance, he watched a hawk circle around and around until it finally dropped in a deadly swoop, talons outstretched, to rise again a moment later with its prize clutched in its claws. All the while, Alwyn’s breath made a slow rhythm beside him.
It was a rare moment of peace after the turmoil of the past few days. The thought had a bitter edge as he considered Torlag and the elves who were not alive to see it.
After some time, Alwyn stirred, groaning in discomfort. His eyes opened, though they were still heavy-lidded.
“W-what? Where are we?” he asked, his voice thick with exhaustion.
“Right where you dropped us,” Krujha chuckled, turning to get a better look at him. “You were in no state to ride, so I decided we could spare some time for you to rest.”
“No, we should—we should go,” Alwyn mumbled, pushing himself to sit up straight. “I can ride.”
“I don’t think you can, little spitfire,” Krujha laughed. “But I admire your tenacity.”
Alwyn’s cheeks burned scarlet at that. He glared up at Krujha; but with how sleepy he looked, there was no intimidation to the look whatsoever. In fact, he rather looked like a puffed-up kitten. “I’m not—you don’t—I don’t know what that even means.”
“Just keep resting,” Krujha said. “The sooner you’re rested, the sooner we can go.”
“I can ride,” Alwyn repeated, trying to stagger to his feet. But there was no strength in his legs, and he slumped back with an annoyed sigh. “Five more minutes, then.”
“Sure. Five more minutes,” Krujha chuckled.
Alwyn didn’t stir again for another half hour, but this time when he roused himself, he managed to get to his feet. Still, Krujha didn’t think he could ride without the risk of falling off. So without waiting for the stubborn elf to agree, he first lashed the elf’s gelding to his horse, then placed Alwyn in his own saddle. He climbed up onto the stallion behind him, so his arms encircled the smaller elf as they rode, holding him in place.
“I’m not a child,” Alwyn protested, squirming as if to escape. Krujha ignored him and nudged the horse forward at a sedate pace.
“Just be quiet and rest,” Krujha said. The elf’s half-hearted struggle was almost laughable. “I’ve got you.”
Another faint, indiscernible mumble escaped the elf’s mouth, but he stopped all the same. After a moment, the tension in his body relaxed. His back pressed against Krujha’s chest, as he seemed to doze again, his head lolling slightly with each step of the horse.
His hair smelled warm and sweet from the sun. Krujha closed his eyes, trying not to breathe in too deeply. The elf might have been cute and sleepy, but would probably notice Krujha takingin a deep whiff of his scent, andthatwould be a conversation he absolutely did not want to have.
Alwyn dozed against his chest for the better part of the day. Sometime that afternoon, he awoke enough that he was sitting up on his own, instead of leaning against Krujha for support. Still, sometimes his head would tip forward, or he would list to one side, before jerking back up into a sitting position. Krujha stifled his laughter, resolving not to tease Alwyn; he had expended so much energy into getting them here that it felt like making fun of him would be in poor taste.
