Episode 27 This Is Not Normal
This Is Not Normal
Rominy pulls Elowyn toward the hatch as angry drops of rain pelt their waterlogged skin. Wasn’t the sun beating down on them moments ago?
As he directs her through the opening to the cottage below, he glances over his shoulder one more time.
He shouldn’t have done that.
The storm is almost upon them, and mammoth waves rush toward them as their little boat rocks ominously in the ocean. The deck lurches beneath his feet, and he loses his balance, falling to his knees and sliding away from the hatch.
“Rominy!” Elowyn screams, rushing back onto the deck.
He clutches a rope to keep from being hurled overboard, and as he struggles to crawl back toward the hatch, Elowyn watches with horror written on her face.
“Go below!” he cries, but the howling wind swallows his words, and another wave slams into them, soaking him all over again. The water’s no longer warm, and an icy chill grips him as he sputters and shakes the wetness from his face.
What sort of diabolical place is this? This is not normal.
Fierce determination replaces the fear on Elowyn’s face, and the water around Rominy lifts him to his feet, propelling him forward.
Mustering his strength as her magic gives him the leverage he needs, he lunges for the hatch, overshooting his aim.
As he skids past, Elowyn swerves after him, grabbing his shirt and yanking him through the doorway.
He barely ducks in time to avoid hitting his head, and together they tumble down the stairs, landing in a heap of soggy, tangled limbs and hair.
Rominy’s chest rises and falls rapidly as he hurries to extract himself from Elowyn. Most of his weight landed on her when she broke his fall.
“Elowyn! Say something!” He rolls to his knees beside her, hovering near her lips to make sure she’s breathing. As he brushes her sopping silver hair away from her face, she moans.
“That was...quite the adventure.”
A cry of relief catches in his throat, and he pulls her to his chest. She’s all right. Thank the heavens, she’s all right.
“Elves are sturdy creatures,” she murmurs against Rominy, and another choked laugh escapes him, followed by a shiver.
At least there’s no wind down here. And their cottage isn’t trying to hurl them into the sea.
“Rominy, you’re freezing.”
“The water was chilly at the end.”
“We need to get you out of these wet clothes.”
He doesn’t want to do that. He wants to sit here, holding her for just a little longer.
Or forever. Either way.
Stars above, what is he doing?
He releases her, putting space between them as he glances over her once more to ensure she’s all right. Her gown clings to her like a second skin, but she’s breathing. She’s obviously breathing.
Tearing his eyes away, he clears his throat, and another shiver wracks his body. “You need to dry off, too.”
“You’re so cold, though. Your skin is like ice.” She runs her hands over his arms, and he looks at her in shock. Her hands are so warm. How are her hands so warm?
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Using my fire magic to warm you up. Is it too hot?”
He shakes his head, though her touch feels like fire of a different sort.
She catches him staring at her, and her hands still as her cheeks turn a faint pink. “Maybe you should change into something dry. I’ll light a fire in the hearth.”
Swallowing, he nods, and she rises. Once she’s kneeling near the fireplace, he hurries to the little bedroom and pushes the door shut behind him.
His heart pounds as he leans back against the solid wood, recalling the sensation of her warm touch on his chilled arms. The sudden urge to return to her and pull her close again leaves him backing away from the door.
What is happening to him?
He’s clearly addled.
Pushing thoughts of Elowyn aside, he strips out of his wet garments and tugs open the wardrobe doors. Unlike last time, when the small closet was filled with clothing of every kind imaginable, there’s only a simple flannel shirt and matching trousers.
Pajamas?
He glances back at his wet puddle of clothes as he shivers.
Unsure what else to do, he grabs the flannels and slides them on. Then, taking a deep breath, he pulls the door open, and Elowyn glances up from the cozy fire she lit in the hearth. Her eyes flit over him, but she just beckons him closer. “Come get warm while I change.”
He tries not to fidget with his nightclothes as he approaches her, and with a soft smile, she hops to her feet and makes her way to the bedroom.
When Rominy emerged wearing what looked like a garment meant for sleeping, Elowyn almost did a double-take, but as she stares into the wardrobe, she can guess why he chose that ensemble.
That’s all the heartlanding seems to be offering.
She could draw the water from their clothes using her magic, but the ache to return to Rominy right away fills her.
It must be the heartbinding causing it. Pera said it would draw them together.
She fingers the soft fabric of the sleeping gown hanging alone in the wardrobe and sighs.
Navigating the heartbinding without her parents to guide her is harder than she expected.
They did their best to prepare her, but it’s not the same.
Don’t fight it.
That’s what they told her.
Lean into the feelings. Let them grow.
Her wrist aches as she reaches for the gown, and she pulls her arm back, using her other hand instead.
She must have sprained it when they fell.
Hopefully, Rominy won’t notice. She just needs to survive until they wake, and then everything will be fine again.
It’s not sore enough to fret over as long as she doesn’t move it too much.
After removing the gown from the hanger with her good hand, she gingerly slides it over her head. It’s soft and warm, and it covers everything. More or less. That’s probably good enough to wear around Rominy.
They are bound, after all.
Anyway, it’s more decent than the other gown was with the flimsy wet fabric clinging to her. She didn’t miss the way Rominy stared. That would have been impossible. A smile slips across her face at the thought.
With a shrug, she wanders back into the sitting room of their little cottage. A storm rages outside here, too, as if the heartlanding is pushing them to stay off the boat and out of the garden. To remain inside by the warmth of the cozy fire as it casts flickering shadows around the room.
Rominy glances her way and smiles. “You, too?”
She spins, drawing out a soft laugh from him as her skirt billows around her.
He’s not sputtering and turning red or running away.
It’s a little shocking.
“I would have felt underdressed if you had come out in an evening gown.” He scoots over to make room for her, and she plops down on the fur hearthrug beside him. “You’re really all right? I didn’t hurt you when I landed on you?”
She’s about to tell him she’s perfectly fine, but the words feel wrong on her tongue, and she can’t bring herself to say what she’d planned to say.
Concern fills Rominy’s eyes. “You are hurt. Elowyn—”
“Just a little sore.” She smiles softly up at him, but he looks unconvinced. “Tharios would be useful right about now.”
“Tharios? Prince Tharios?”
“The one and only. You don’t have to use his title. We’re family now.”
Rominy chuckles a nervous huff and nods. “Right.”
“He has life magic. He’s good for injuries.”
“That must be convenient. What kind of magic does Cerian have?”
“Fire and plant magic. Don’t tell Tharios this, but Cerian’s plant magic is stronger than Tharios’s plant magic is.”
Rominy laughs at that. “And his fire magic? Which of you is the master?”
“Why, I am, of course.” She sends an innocent look his way, and he laughs harder.
“I don’t know if I should believe you.”
“I’m not sure I can lie to you.”
Rominy’s mirth fades. “Have you tried?”
Hmm. Maybe she shouldn’t have said that.
“Not lied, exactly. Stretched the truth? I was going to tell you I was fine after our ordeal on the stairs, but the words wouldn’t come.”
“Why would you lie about that?” Rominy’s brows furrow, and she sighs.
“I didn’t want you to worry about me. I really will be fine.”
He still doesn’t look convinced. For a few moments, he studies her, and she can barely meet his gaze. What is he thinking?
“Don’t lie to me, all right? You’re my...my wife. Just...let’s be honest with each other. Please.”
The sincerity in his eyes warms her heart, and she nods. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry. Just tell me the truth. Are you really all right?”
Something about the way he looks at her makes it hard to think. Or breathe.
“Elowyn?”
Her senses return, and she looks away. “My ribs are sore, and I may have sprained my wrist. But as I said, elves are sturdy. I’ll be—”
“This one?” He reaches for her left hand. Did he notice her favoring it?
“Yes.”
He turns it gently, and she winces.
“We should ice it,” he says. “Can you make ice?”
Her smile returns, and she nods. Ice is one of her specialties. Most water wielders can’t do it, but she can pull the heat from water with her fire magic.
“I’ll be back.” Rominy hops to his feet and throws open cupboard doors in the kitchen until he finds a bowl, and then he fills it with water from the sink. It has knobs like the sinks at the castle.
When he returns to her side, he sets the bowl between them. “Now, show me your magic.”