Episode 115 Like Drinking Candy
Like Drinking Candy
Everyone watches expectantly as Elowyn sips the warm coffee from the mug with Cerian’s help.
“Not too much,” Tharios warns again.
It’s...amazing.
“Rominy,” she breathes. “Why didn’t you introduce me to coffee?” She looks at him as the rich flavor lingers on her tongue, and he makes the most adorably disgusted face imaginable.
“Because now you’ll want it all the time.”
Laughter fills her, and Cerian offers her another sip, which she closes her eyes to savor.
“Thanks, Sanna.” Rominy sounds less than grateful.
“You’re welcome,” Arisanna says, and when Elowyn opens her eyes, merriment fills Arisanna’s face.
“We also bought candy for you,” Cerian says. “It was Grandmera’s idea.”
“There’s a candy shop here?” Elowyn turns back to Rominy. “Can we visit it?”
“You have to get stronger first,” Rominy says.
“In the meantime”—Tharios reaches for the coffee mug—“let that settle, and we’ll see about getting some real food in you before you gorge yourself on the mounds of candy Grandmera seems to believe you need.”
With a wink that leaves Cerian rolling his eyes, Tharios lifts the coffee to his own lips and takes a long drink before wincing. “Whistling wind, Cer. How much sugar did you put in this? It’s like drinking candy.”
“Have you been eating Elowyn’s candy?” Cerian scowls at Tharios, but Tharios just grins in return.
“Someone has to do it. You bought enough for an army.” Tharios takes another sip and makes a face. “Wow, that’s sweet.”
He sets the mug aside, and Elowyn looks at it longingly. Maybe she’ll be able to talk Cerian into sneaking her more later.
Of course, Tharios might make her sleep again if she doesn’t follow his instructions. That’s the last thing she wants.
“How does your arm feel?” Tharios asks more seriously as he prods at her some more, and Cerian returns to Arisanna’s side.
“Strange. I feel it there, but it’s a dull sensation, and I can’t move it. Occasionally, it tingles a bit.”
Tharios nods, and Elowyn eyes the sheet covering her. What is she wearing? Her shift? She pushes that thought away. It hardly matters. Clearing her throat, she says, “I might need someone to help me to the water closet soon. All that ice yesterday seems to have caught up with me.”
What an awkward thing to ask for help with. Frustration creeps up on her. She feels so helpless, and it’s not a pleasant sensation.
Before Tharios can say anything, Rominy squeezes her hand. “I’ve got you, love.”
Rominy. She looks into his eyes, and heat threatens her at the thought.
And not the delightful kind of heat.
It hadn’t occurred to her that he might help her. There’s nothing but love shining in his eyes, though.
“Unless you’d rather someone else help you,” he adds softly.
It might as well be him, though.
“I can get Viala if you wish,” Tharios offers quietly, but Elowyn shakes her head.
“Rominy is fine.”
Rominy kisses her hair, and she leans against his shoulder.
The other half of her heart. He’s seen her at her best and her worst. And he looks at her the same here, with her hair a matted mess and her skin pale, as he does in the heartlanding. With a love so all-consuming that it steals her breath away.
“As long as we’re awkward together,” he whispers near her ear, and a smile sneaks up on her.
Yes. As long as they’re together, everything will be all right.
When Elowyn attempts to swing her feet off the bed, it’s all Tharios can do not to roll his eyes. “If you try to stand now, you’ll end up in a pile of Elowyn on the floor, and I’ll just say I told you so.”
“Isn’t that all you are?” she asks sweetly, though she can’t hide the dizziness swimming in her eyes. “A pile of Tharios on the floor?”
Cerian snorts behind Tharios, and Tharios shakes his head. “You will be a very short pile of Elowyn.”
“Let’s avoid that,” Rominy says as he sweeps Elowyn into his arms. At least one of them seems determined to follow Tharios’s instructions.
Rominy carries Elowyn to the water closet as Tharios watches. They should be fine. Stifling a yawn, he eyes that coffee again. Perhaps he should ask the kitchen to send one that hasn’t been drowned in sugar. Did he even eat breakfast?
His eyes land on the full tray at the table. It seems he did not.
When Cerian clears his throat, Tharios turns. Cerian has that look he gets right before Father drags him to a more private place to talk.
“Is something wrong, Cer?”
Cerian glances at Arisanna before looking down at his hands.
Something is bothering him.
“You can talk to me,” Tharios says gently. “I know I’m not Father, but—”
“I turned our suite into a jungle, and I don’t know what to do about it,” Cerian blurts out.
Tharios stares at Cerian for a few moments, and a smile gets the better of him before he can help himself.
At least he resists the urge to laugh.
“First, that bottle I gave you,” Tharios says. “Every night?”
Cerian glares daggers at him, and Arisanna turns red. Then Cerian sighs, and his scowl fades. “Yes. Thank you. Can we focus on the vines now?”
“This is fascinating to me. My vines have never done—”
“Mine are more powerful than yours.” Cerian lifts his chin, and Tharios grins again.
“That they are. At least you don’t have air magic. You don’t even wish to know that story. When Elowyn is settled again, I’ll come see what I can do, all right? Does Father know your plant magic is out of control?”
“It’s not out of control. It’s just...eager. And both Father and Mother know.”
Tharios shrugs. “Well, as long as you’re growing jungles in hotels on purpose.”
“I’m having regrets about this conversation.”
Tharios laughs at that. “It will be fine, Cer. We’ll get it cleaned up. How far away is this suite of yours? Your magic grows faint at night.”
Horror fills Cerian’s eyes. “Why are you sensing my magic at night?”
“Relax. I’m not spying on you. It’s just there whenever I access my life magic. You’re too powerful not to notice.”
“It’s on the third floor,” Arisanna says quietly. “On the other side of the hotel.”
Tharios gently tugs at the cord connecting him to Viala. It’s shorter than it was yesterday. Something must be bothering her. He’ll have to ask her when he gets a chance.
“I’ll need to bring Viala,” he says, and Cerian nods.
Tharios eyes the tray again. He should probably eat something. Especially if he’ll be accessing his plant magic.
“Is that your breakfast?” Arisanna asks.
“I believe so.”
“Be careful,” Cerian says. “She enjoys forcing food down people’s throats.”
“Cerian!” she hisses, and a smile tugs at Tharios’s lips.
“If she’s ensuring you don’t starve yourself when you’re upset, I’m going to take her side on this,” Tharios says to Cerian.
“You probably should eat something, too,” Arisanna says to Tharios.
“See?” Cerian gestures toward her. “I don’t believe she can help herself.”
Despite Cerian’s words, adoration shines in his eyes as he looks at Arisanna, and it warms Tharios’s heart to see Cerian so happy.
Arisanna’s right, though. He should eat. Tharios turns back to the tray of what must be cold food by now, and with a sigh, he sits and pours himself a cup of tepid tea before picking up his fork.
Rominy braces Elowyn in front of the sink as she stares at herself in the mirror. To say this has been awkward would be an understatement, but they managed.
“I look awful,” she whispers.
He gazes at her reflection. She doesn’t look her best, but it hardly matters. Not to him, anyway. She’s still his Elowyn.
“I think you’re beautiful all the time,” he says softly.
“I believe you may need spectacles.”
Laughter overtakes him, and she smiles in return.
“The sentiment is appreciated, though,” she adds.
“I’d offer to brush your hair, but I’d probably just make it worse. I don’t have any experience with long hair.”
“It’s all right. I’m ready to lie down again, anyway. Don’t tell Tharios I said that.”
“Of course not. We wouldn’t want your healer to know you’re tired.”
She tries to hide a smile, but she can’t. She’s far too expressive for that.
He lifts her again and fumbles for the door before carrying her back to the bed.
Tharios starts to rise from the table, but he glances at Arisanna and changes his mind. Is she insisting people eat again? The thought makes Rominy smile. Some things never change, which is oddly comforting given how much his life has changed in such a short time.
Sanna is still Sanna. Taking care of everyone.
Tharios shovels what’s left of his eggs into his mouth before downing what looks like tea. Then he wanders to Elowyn’s side, where she’s curled up under the covers again. That trip to the water closet took a lot out of her.
“I dislike this deadweight that is my arm,” she mutters to Tharios.
Rominy tries not to smile. She complained about it in the water closet, too.
“Give it a few hours. Healing takes time.”
“Mother healed Pera on the battlefield in minutes.”
“And almost killed them both in the process. You are not the King of Lostariel trying to prevent an unnecessary war, I’m afraid. You’ll have to heal the slow way. That’s the safest option.”
“I wish to note for the record that I do not like this at all.”
Tharios grins. “Noted. I’ll put it in my healer’s log.”
“Good. I’m just closing my eyes now. I’m not sleeping.”
“Of course not.” Tharios shakes his head.
“I want more coffee when I’m done closing my eyes.”
Rominy sighs. Of course she does.
“That can be arranged. I’m going to help Cerian with something while you close your eyes. But you’re in great hands.” Tharios glances at Rominy.
Elowyn mumbles something unintelligible in response. Sure, she’s just closing her eyes.
“Will you be all right?” Tharios asks Rominy. “Grandmera is nearby if you need anything.”
Rominy gazes down at the slow rise and fall of Elowyn’s chest. “We’ll be fine. Do you have a book or something I could read?”
Tharios collects a volume from the chair in the corner. “I hope you like elven fables. Viala’s been working her way through this one.”
Rominy frowns as he thumbs through the pages. It’s written in Elvish. Then he shrugs. It has nice illustrations.
And it’s better than nothing.
As the others leave, he turns to the first page and stares at the Elvish runes.
Maybe Elowyn will teach him to read Elvish someday.