Episode 129 What’s Going On?
What’s Going On?
Elowyn calms in her mother’s arms, and relief fills Rominy as he watches from beside them on the bed.
When Queen Nestraya stiffens before emitting what sounds suspiciously like a curse in Elvish, Rominy gapes at her.
Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised after seeing Elowyn attempt to obliterate the hearth in their cottage in the heartlanding.
Elowyn did say she inherited her mother’s spirit.
“Nestraya,” Grandmera scolds.
“I heard Viala that time. They encountered a band of high-born rebels.”
Rebels?
Elowyn gasps, and Rominy reaches for her as Queen Nestraya rises.
“Rebels? Hiding for thirty years?” Grandmera asks. “Why come out of hiding now?”
Queen Nestraya glances briefly at Rominy. “I can only speculate. I need to find Lorial.”
“Are Tharios and Viala all right?” Elowyn asks.
“Forgive me. Yes, they’re fine. But the elf they detained is near death, and Tharios is struggling to keep him alive.”
“Did she say where they are?” Grandmera asks.
“Vaguely. She gave a general direction. At least Lorial will know where to look.”
Rominy stares after them as they disappear through the door.
Breathe. He should probably breathe.
The bed shifts, and he lunges in time to grab Elowyn as she attempts to stand and sways.
“Elowyn!”
She groans in frustration and flops back on the bed beside him. “I am the highly trained warrior-elf daughter of Lorial and Nestraya. I should be joining them. My emotional struggle at the news of Tharios in danger has passed, and I am ready to face this head-on.”
“As amazing—and terrifying—as I find that, I doubt you’d make it far.”
She looks up at him and groans again.
“I can help you get dressed, though,” he offers. “In case you miraculously regain all your strength before they leave.”
She stares at him for a few moments before her lips twitch at the corners. “I suppose clothes would be a good first step.”
“Definitely clothes first before going outside.”
Not that he has any intention of letting her leave this room. Getting dressed will probably exhaust her enough that she’ll want to lie down again, though.
“Does this door have a lock?” Rominy asks as he wanders toward it. “Ah. Imagine that. Privacy.”
“What if someone needs to tell us something?”
“I don’t know what it’s like in Lostariel, but in Nunia, we have a fascinating practice called knocking.” He smiles back at her as he tries to keep his heart from racing at the thought that Tharios and Viala were attacked and what that means for both Lostariel and Nunia.
He should probably send Father a telegram when he gets the chance.
“We have also mastered the art of knocking,” Elowyn says. “As Grandmera demonstrated.”
“Excellent. Now, I refuse to put you in stays. What did you bring that you can wear without them?” He wanders toward her trunk and lifts the lid.
“Your guess is as good as mine, my love. Perhaps my elven clothes from the day we met. They should be in there.”
He digs until he finds the long tunic with the split skirt and trousers she wore that day.
She clearly made quite the impression on him, since he remembers exactly what she was wearing when she first smiled at him across that meadow.
He also knows what goes under it after their last experience in the heartlanding.
“Your heart is racing. Are you all right?” Elowyn calls to him.
He laughs. “Just thinking about you.”
“Ah. I see. Well, carry on then.”
He gathers her clothing and drops it beside her on the bed.
“If we do this, you aren’t allowed to catch fire,” he warns.
“What about you?” she asks as she pushes herself up and tugs off her shift.
“I’m pretty sure there’s no hope for me.”
She laughs weakly at that. Her eyes are already swimming. “I don’t think I’m going anywhere today, am I?”
“Maybe to a chair in front of the window. Otherwise, no. Not a chance. Here.” He hands her the small clothes, which she manages before collapsing back on the bed.
“I give up.”
“I’m pretty sure you need more than that.”
She definitely needs to wear more than that. Stars above.
“How about a nightgown?” he asks, and she groans.
“You tricked me.”
“I may have done that, yes.”
“But Tharios needs me.”
“Tharios needs you to take care of yourself so he doesn’t have to save your life again when he returns.”
She grumbles something under her breath but doesn’t argue. “Can I at least have some coffee?”
“We can make that happen. Let’s get you a little more dressed, and then I’ll send for some.”
With a sigh, she nods, and he returns to her trunk to find her something more comfortable to wear while she rests.
Cerian grips Arisanna’s hand as they hurry down the stairs, but whispered voices reach his ears, and he pulls her to a stop.
“What is it?” she asks, and he holds a finger to his lips.
It’s Mother and Father. Grandmera, too.
“If even Tharios’s life magic is struggling, we need to go now before it’s too late,” Mother says.
Her words set Cerian’s heart racing. What aren’t they telling him?
He pulls Arisanna around the corner, and everyone looks up at him.
“What’s really going on?” he asks.
Father sighs, and Mother rubs her brows.
“Your mother received a more understandable message from Viala,” Father says. “She’s fine. Tharios is fine. They just need our help.”
“Then why are you talking about his life magic not being enough? Enough for what?”
“We need to go, Lorial,” Mother says. “Cerian, stay here. We can talk later.”
“But Father said he needed—”
“It is not safe,” Mother says. “Watch over your sister.”
Mother turns down the hallway, and Father looks between her and Cerian before sighing again. “Stay here and stay safe. We’ll be fine.”
Father hurries after Mother, and Cerian turns to Grandmera. “What are they hiding from me?”
“I will not undermine your mother and father, Cerian. You will do as they say. Stay here and keep everyone safe. That is how you help your family today.”
Cerian groans. “I’m not an elfling.”
But Grandmera has already turned to follow his parents.
“Cerian,” Arisanna whispers beside him, and he wraps his arms around her.
“It’s all right,” he says as he pulls her close. “I’ve got you.”
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. But you’re safe.”
She nestles against him and lets him hold her.
Perhaps Rominy and Elowyn know more than he does.
“Let’s check on Elowyn, all right?” he says softly, and Arisanna nods.
When they reach Elowyn’s door, Cerian turns the handle, but it’s locked.
“We usually knock on locked doors in Nunia,” Arisanna whispers as Cerian stares at the handle that won’t turn.
“I believe that’s a universal practice. It’s just never been locked before.”
“Perhaps they wanted some privacy.”
“Privacy?”
“Well, they are married.”
Cerian frowns at Arisanna. “They’d better not need that kind of privacy. She can’t even walk yet.”
“It’s not really any of our business. Are you going to knock, or shall I?”
He lifts his hand to rap on the door.
“Just a minute!” Rominy calls from within.
“See? They’re fine,” Arisanna says.
“But what are they doing? Her magic—”
Before Cerian can finish, the door opens, and he eyes Rominy warily.
“Good morning? Why are you looking at me like that?” Rominy asks.
“If you set my sister on fire before she’s fully healed, I will set you on fire,” Cerian says before he can think better of it.
“Cerian!” Arisanna hisses.
“You and Grandmera both,” Rominy mutters. “Did you come here just to tell me that?”
“Of course not,” Arisanna says. “Cerian is just struggling to adjust to the fact that his sister is married.”
“We have that in common,” Rominy says as he returns Cerian’s gaze. “But I’m not banging on the door of your honeymoon suite, threatening you. Let’s just make that clear.”
“Rominy!” Arisanna turns horrified eyes to her brother before glancing back at Cerian. “You know what? There is far too much masculine energy choking the air in this corridor. Excuse me.” She lets go of Cerian and pushes past Rominy into the room, and Cerian looks sheepishly at the floor.
What in the Wildthorne Woods is wrong with him? Everything going on with Tharios has clearly set him on edge.
“I think...perhaps—”
“Yeah.” Rominy groans and then chuckles as he runs his fingers through his hair.
“Forgive me for...that.”
“I’m just going to pretend that conversation never happened.”
Cerian nods in relief. “I will endeavor to do the same.”
“So we’re good?”
“I believe so.”
“For what it’s worth, Elowyn wanted to get dressed. That’s why the door was locked.”
That...is a good reason to lock the door. Whistling wind.
“I feel like an idiot now,” Cerian mumbles.
“I suppose we have that in common, too. Aren’t we supposed to be pretending we didn’t just choke the air with our masculine energy?” A smile pulls at Rominy’s lips, and Cerian struggles not to smile in return.
“That was our agreement, yes.”
“Good. Now get in here so we can discuss what’s happening with Tharios.”