365

apr.25.22

The girl had been overheating; the elf's body heat hadn't been helping in the slightest. He'd taken the woven blankets off of her, laid her on a bare bed with only a few pillows, and had extinguished mostnof the candles in the room. He'd opened the window as wide as it would allow, and he made a makeshift fan from some driftwood and wide penelope leaves, and he'd fanned the room for what felt like both an eternity and not long enough.

The room was chilly. With night alive, the air inside the room was near freezing.

He dared not touch her, for the fear of her body temperature rising again. He said instead, in a chair beside the bed. His arms rested on his knees, his chin against his clenched hands. His breathing had slowed so, that he could not recount hearing his own heart in several minutes, yet he knew every second hers made it known.

He kept going over the pros and cons in his head, trying to find a symptom or ailment he could have overlooked: she was no longer grey-skinned. She had a slight red to her cheeks. Her breathing was even. Her skin wasn't cold, and she wasn't shivering anymore, but now she was burning. Her wound was dressed, and didn't seem to be causing her any additional pain. She had fallen asleep again, and while the rest was considered a good thing, it still unease him: she still wasn't eating, and only drank a thimbleful of wine when he held it to her lips.

It had been five days since he'd found her, wounded by a goblin arrow near the freezing river rapids of Mirkwood.

He hadn't heard from his father at all, either; every day since he had found the human, his father had made a point about telling him not to expect the girl to live long. He knew the fragility of humans, but he could not allow himself to believe it, or accept it. Something in him hoped the girl was stubborn for death.

A warm touch startled him; he felt a hand against his, which were folded together as they held his head up. As his blue eyes widened, searching for the unknown, they came to rest on a set of oceanic greys, looking back at him.

She was sitting up, cross-legged, watching him. He could hear her heartbeat in his ears within the silence of the room, and it sounded regular. Her cheeks were pink, and human flesh should. She was not shivering or panting. She looked well.

Words evaded the elf; his hands shook then, as he reached for the glass of wine at the bedside. He held the glass out to her. "Will you drink this willingly?"

Her eyes rested on the glass a long moment. "Will it help?"

"It could."

She gently accepted the glass, and took a slow sip. Her nose crinkled slightly at its taste. "Strong stuff," she commented with a small chuckle.

The elf chuckled with her. "It is. It is elven wine, but it's the weakest of all we have."

"Well, it's tasty." She took another sip.

"How do you feel?" he asked then, finding his lost words.

"Better." Holding the glass in one hand, her other hand touched the binding in her leg. "This aches a little, but other than that, I feel okay." She looked back to the elf. "You saved my life."

The elf exhaled; they had been the words he didn't know he needed to hear. A wave of relief washed over him, in a very physical manner; his tense shoulders softened, his breath came easier, and his heart felt like it was alive again.

He suddenly felt arms around him, warm hands on his shoulders and his back. Her head fit into his neck perfectly. She held him strongly. His hands found her, holding her against him in a way that suggested he never wanted to let her go.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry for scaring you, for being a burden to you. I'm so sorry I hurt you so."

He almost laughed. "You believe you are a burden?" he asked in surprised disbelief. "You are not a burden. You are a salvation. You are the light I need in my life. You are the essence of being, the reason for life, the sunlight each morning." He exhaled suddenly. "Without you, I would be nothing. I cannot imagine a life without you."

"You barely know me," she said through her joyous tears.

"But yet, I feel like I have known you since my waking moment." He pulled back, meeting her eyes. "If fate is a director of out days, then this is fate's path. You are my fate, and I yours." He held her face. "You are my whole life. I promise to cherish every waking moment with you. Until my dying day." He smiled, the gesture feeling wonderful. "I promise."