Grey Folk

Chapter 8

Emory enjoyed cooking.

Generally he only enjoyed cooking for himself, but to be fair, he hadn't cooked for someone else in... well, a long time.

That thought made his fingers pause where they skillfully chopped long green scallions.

Had it really been so many years since his last affair? He shook his head in remembrance of the large half-orc female who had entered his life in such a storm. They had been so different and argued constantly, but in the confines of his bedroom, they were compatible. Oh, yes, compatible was a mild word for it.

Focusing his eyes back on the scallions, he continued chopping until the green stalk turned to white, then tossed the double handful into the pot simmering on the stove. The broth was beginning to take on a pleasing savory scent, and he felt a tremor of excitement in anticipation of hearing the exclamations of praise from the clearly-starving Midge's lips.

The quiet click of the bedroom door opening had his entire body on alert. The examination could not be over so soon, surely. He had planned to bring three bowls of soup to the bedroom later for them to share.

Rushing to the door of the small kitchen, he nudged it open with his shoulder and peered out into the dark hallway. Sure enough, just a few yards away the blue crack of light that was his bedroom door widened.

"Finished so soon?" he asked of Rubius as the old wizard exited, brushing wrinkles out of his purple robe.

Rubius startled and looked up, eyes uncharacteristically wide and unfocused before he stammered out, "Oh, y-yes. Emory. Midge wanted to..."

"I'm going to the pool," she said in a strong, clear tone, emerging directly behind the human. 

Emory lifted his eyebrows at that request not even thinly veiled as a command. "Oh, I see. And your doctor has declared you fit to leave your bed?"

In truth, she was moving with a vigor that surprised him. It also surprised him to see her long, angular body so exposed in his silk pajamas. Why could she not don her own dress again?

"Yes, she's quite vigorous. Prime of health," Rubius assured from behind his beard in a mumble that did little to assuage Emory's doubts. "She thinks walking outside might refresh her memory, you see. I'm inclined to believe her. We have already established she is a being of the Faewild. Nature could revive her in ways I cannot."

Emory narrowed his gaze and flicked his eyes between Rubius and Midge, while his mind scrambled to work out what was happening. Why were they so chummy, all of a sudden? Why did he get the feeling Rubius was more on Midge's side than his, and they weren't even in an argument? If the fellow weren't absolutely ancient he'd have thought they had some sort of romantic affair, but as it was, he had to consider worse possibilities.

"You told me you were hungry," Emory said, peering back over his shoulder into the kitchen at the simmering pot. Still smelled delicious, but it wasn't finished.

"Later," Midge said, glancing at him before lifting her chin once more and gazing into the dark tunnel left and right. She had to hunch her shoulders to avoid grazing the top of her head against the ceiling, which Emory, for some odd reason, found charming. "Which way is out?"

Emory could tell she was not to be thwarted without him exerting some sort of serious effort, but he didn't see why she should not be allowed to roam free. In fact, the sooner she was gone, the better.

"Rubius, you won't make it all the way to the sand dunes. I'll escort her. You stay in the kitchen and stir the soup." Emory stepped out and held one hand towards Midge, gesturing with his other hand in the direction of his Second Office. "This is the way out."