“We are not going to collect her,” said the steward. “She likely should not be moved. And with a head injury…” There was a long pause. “Well, we must hope for the best but prepare for the worst. An injury like this could mean that she never wakes, or that she wakes a simpleton or that she wakes with no memory. It is all very delicate. We will leave her where she is until we can safely move her.”
Dathor was full of fresh panic.
He went to the Chapel without permission that night, and he found out from Igbar that she had not regained consciousness, that she had been lying asleep for hours. He wanted nothing more than to sit himself down at the foot of her bed and wait for her to wake, but, of course, he could notdo that.
Igbar talked to him of his herbs. He said that he had been studying with old lady Nilhin in the wood and also, for some time before, with an elderly orc in the Vale, who had imparted to him a number of remedies for all manner of maladies. He wished to be able to help people with their illnesses, he said, and he wanted to preserve the old ways and also resurrect the folk wisdom of the orcs.
Dathor was quiet, listening, not wanting to tell Igbar that this was all folly because what Aerhril needed was a doctor, one who had studied medicine in school and who knew the science of healing. Of course, he knew it would be cruel to say this to Igbar, who would never be allowed to study medicine and become a doctor, and that frustrated him, too.
He was obliged to go back to the Peak and wait.
When he returned, he got a tongue-lashing from the steward for going to ask after her, but the steward seemed worried, too. Celedin was also in a temper. He went to the Chapel to visit the following day, but she still had not awakened.
They were all quite relieved when word came that she had regained consciousness the following day. She did have some amnesia, but only a bit. She had no memory of the entire day, of going to Thelandel Chapel, of agreeing to go ride on horseback. Otherwise, she was weak, but not damaged.
Dathor waited for word of how they would bring her back.
But a letter came from Elrion saying that he thought she should stay in bed and rest and not be moved for some time, perhaps a week, and the steward seemed to think this was wise, though Celedin did not and Dathor did not either.
They went together to Thelandel Chapel, and Celedin was sharp with Elrion and rude to his small daughter who was picking flowers and making them into crowns, and they were both sent away.
When Dathor came back, late one evening, after dark, he snuck around the place, looking in windows, and it wasNathre who came out after him.
“I saw you,” she said. “What are you doing here? Is it for word of her?”
“Aye,” he said. “I only wanted to see her. I want to see with my own eyes that she is all right, I suppose.”
Nathre nodded. “Yes, she is very pretty. And an elf. A blond elf. Everyone thinks she is pretty. Everyone is in love with her. But I think she is peevish when she is in pain, and I think she is sharp to the servants if they do not fetch things for her quickly enough.”
That sounded like Aerhril all right. But he was glad to hear it. “If she is sharp and peevish, she is all right,” he murmured. “I am glad to know.”
“She can’t love you back, of course,” said Nathre to him, a challenge.
He ran a hand through his hair. “No, I know. Obviously.” He looked the female orc over, his gaze assessing. He thought again that she was pleasantly shaped, that he was curious what her body would look like uncovered, that he found her curves intriguing. He could actually fuck an orc woman, no worries about getting her with some half-breed child. He wouldn’t have to worry about being so gentle, either, he supposed. A woman like Nathre would be sturdy enough to accommodate him.
She preened under his gaze, giving him a little smile.
He was embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”
“For ogling me,” she said. “You’re hardly the first man to do so. All the elf men who see me seem to get stuck looking at my bosom.”
“You’re… nicely put together,” he said.
She snorted.
“Sorry, I suppose I should not have said—”
“I don’t mind,” she said. “You are sort of impossibly handsome yourself. You’re somehow so smooth and so rough at the same time. And your eyes.” She stepped closer.
He swallowed. “I am sorry. I should not have done or said any of—”
“Don’t apologize,” she said. “What do I want with yourapologies?”
He let out a breath. He stammered out his goodbyes and left her there.
IT WAS QUITEa rude awakening for Aerhril to be actually very seriously injured in Elrion’s house, because she was frightened and uprooted and all alone, and she did not think she made a good impression at first, sobbing too much, ringing for servants and making impossible requests, asking after Dathor of all people.
But then Celedin came and he was horrible, and everything started to go better after that.
