Elwin is a dusk elf who happens to be a dwarven blade-smith in a world ruled by the gods and their children. She works under her legendary blade-smithing father in their forge. Adopted as a newborn, she had never known what it had meant to be elven...
"Elwin, stay awake. You need to stay awake." Birch seemed to whisper. Or he was yelling and my hearing was also just going in and out?
I didn't even notice when we stopped, but I did fully wake up when I felt strong arms grab me. A sharp stabbing sensation rippled through me causing me to cry out. I felt the tears run down my cheeks.
"Okay, Elwin, I'm going to have to set the bones." I heard Birch say, but all I seemed to be able to do was groan.
Whatever had been wrong with my ankle was more severe than just my ankle. Birch's hands gripped my foot and began to push the ankle back into place. Again, I cried out as pain surged through me.
"I'm sorry, I'll have to do it again for the leg." He apologized and warned. When had my leg been injured? I thought it was only my ankle. I winced, waiting for the pain that was sure to follow.
"My rib... I broke it when I landed." I said before I could feel the leg bone be pushed back into place. I saw Birch's brow furrowed in concentration.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner that you broke ribs? I would have just killed the deidae right there and taken care of the ribs before moving you around."
"The pain muddles together... after a bit." I wheezed. Coughing, I ended up spitting blood onto my teeth and the gray shirt he wore.
"Gods, how are you not dead?" His eyes widened, not sure where to start. I internally focused trying to really feel where the most present pain was coming from.
"I think the... worst of it is the rib..." I said. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if I'd let him lift my shirt. "Just do it..."
Without any protest, he lifted my shirt to expose my sunken rib cage. I hissed in pain at the movement. With a movement of his hands, he placed delicate fingers on my ribs. I shuddered at the pain that came with feeling the fractured ribs being moved with magic back in place. Unable to hold it back, I vomited next to where Birch sat. My half digested breakfast now lay in a heap next to him. Birch's nose scrunched up a bit but kept focus on healing me. Though it was painful, my airways no longer seemed to be clogged and breathing came easier.
"Okay, your ribs and internal organs should be fine on that side, but I need to pull that arrow out. Flip over." He gently ordered. I had no fight in me to not follow his instruction. Slowly, I began to move on the other side, exposing the arrow that stuck out right above my hip. Birch didn't warn me when he did it, but I screamed when he yanked the arrow out and immediately placed a healing hand on the wound.
Birch took three hours to fully heal my injuries. After he healed the arrow wound, I began to regain more consciousness. I could fully see where I was. He had taken us into the beginnings of the forest and we sat in the remains of a hollowed out, fallen behemoth. Sun streamed in through the various holes, lightly grazing over his copper hair. Before I knew it, dusk had kicked in and we sat there for a while, not speaking. Breaking the silence, I asked,
"Don't you want to know what happened?"
"I do, but I'd rather you do it when you're healed. I may have healed the wounds, but the magic is still doing its work."
"Salim copied your voice and tried to trick me. I knew it wasn't you, but I thought he might have killed you. When I found out he didn't I jumped out the window because more waywards were coming towards the room. I remembered how you whistled for Aingidh and that's how I'm alive." I told him, ignoring his reasoning.
"Gods..." he whispered, "Please, never risk your life for me. I promise you, he couldn't kill me if he tried."
"You don't know that." I sighed, beginning to sit up, but laid back down from the aching throb in my chest, "Besides, I did what I think you'd do for me. Or I guess what you did for me."
"I would. Just, please, don't risk your life like that. I am almost completely spent on my magic." I felt the chill air hit us through the large husk of wood we sat in. I lit a small fire near him. Honestly, I didn't know if he was cold, but I felt it was something I should do for someone who saved my life.
"I almost killed him." I sighed, watching the dancing shadows flow across his olive skin, "I held the axe near his throat, but it felt wrong. Holding the axe had something dark about it, like if I killed Salim it wouldn't be something I could come back from."
"Like in the way you can't give back a life you take?" Birch quietly asked.
"No, in the way that one would be soiling something sacred. More severe than someone making their first kill. I intended to kill with my magic, but I didn't get the same feeling when I held the blade against him."
Birch sat silently, watching the fire. In my eyes, he looked more of someone that was born of the flame than I was. His bright red hair seemed to sing with the flame as it swayed chaotically in the small area I allotted it. The only sign I saw he was truly born to the earth element sat in his eyes.
"I thought dawn elves braided their hair."
"We do. I just don't."
"Why?" I pushed, my curiosity bursting at the seams.
"I don't know how to." He mumbled.
I blinked. Feeling the sense I stumbled on something private, I stayed silent for a moment.
"Would you like me to braid it?" The words left me before I could catch them and swallow them. A flush spread across my cheeks as I immediately regretted the words. Birch's eyes darted to me in utter surprise. We looked at each other, neither of us could believe what I just asked. Taking me further by surprise, he began to laugh. It wasn't the kind of laugh that was just polite, like if someone told you an unfunny joke; it was a true belly laugh. My eyes widened at how nice it sounded.
"Maybe when you're not healing from three broken ribs, an arrow wound, a sprained ankle, and a broken leg." He said, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. Birch looked at me for a second, I saw as he noticed my expression, "What?"
"You laughed." I stated. I saw his face return to its normal cold expression. A feeling within me sank.
"Am I not allowed to?" His question felt defensive, as if I had tried to wound him.
"Please, laugh more." Again, my dumb mouth said. Gods, if I could, I would sew these lips shut. "I mean, that's the first time I've seen you laugh."
Birch no longer held the cold defensive look on his face, but he remained silent. I knew I no longer disliked the dawn elf, but I was confused at why I wanted to try and make him laugh again. It felt wrong that I got to see him laugh, only for my thoughtless words to take it away.
"If I seem cold, I'm sorry." He said quietly, "I've been alone for a long time. When I wasn't alone, I used my demeanor as a defense against everyone. Now, it's a part of me."
"I can get that." I responded, "I can't keep a straight face to save my life, but I have my own defensive walls; it's like a mask of emotion we hide from others so that our true selves may stay safe."
Birch nodded, again staring into the fire.
"When I'm healed, don't worry I'll braid that pretty hair." I mumbled, closing my eyes. It was a pleasant surprise when I heard a soft chuckle from where the fire flickered.
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