Chapter 22 Falla #2
I'm alone with them now, though I know there are guards watching a little farther away. Eight pairs of eyes watching me with varying degrees of fear and hostility. The dark-haired woman still stands between me and the others like she's willing to fight me bare-handed if necessary.
"My name is Falla," I say again, keeping my voice gentle.
I doubt she listened the first time. "I'm a healer.
I've been doing this all my life, and I'm good at it.
I need to check everyone for serious injuries—broken bones, infections, anything that needs immediate treatment.
I'll talk you through everything I'm doing.
If anyone wants me to stop, I stop. Understood? "
Silence.
Then, quietly, from somewhere in the back: "My leg hurts."
The dark-haired woman's shoulders tense, but she doesn't protest when a younger girl—maybe seventeen—limps forward. Her left leg drags awkwardly, and even from here I can see the swelling around her ankle.
"Can I look at that?" I ask.
The girl glances at the dark-haired woman, who gives a tight nod.
I examine the ankle carefully, explaining each step. Badly sprained, maybe fractured. Needs to be wrapped and elevated. As I work, the other women slowly edge closer, their curiosity and pain overcoming caution.
By the time I've seen all eight of them, cataloging injuries that make my hands clench with rage, the dark-haired woman has finally sat down. She's watching me with sharp intelligence, analyzing every word and movement.
"You're different," she says abruptly. "From the ones who had us."
"Stonevein are brutal. We're not."
"You're still orcs."
"We are." I finish wrapping a wound on another woman's arm. "But we don't hurt humans. Don't sacrifice them or use them for entertainment. The woman I love is human. She was taken by Stonevein too. I know what they do."
Interest flickers in her eyes. "She survived?"
"She did. Healed, even, though it took time. She lives here now. Chose to stay."
"Chose. Right." Skepticism drips from the word.
"She did. And when you're ready, she and the other human women here will probably want to talk to you. Help you settle in." I pack up my kit. "But that's for later. Right now, you all need food, clean water, and rest. We have cabins prepared."
The dark-haired woman stands, her body language still defensive but less hostile. "What's the catch?"
"No catch. You're free to leave whenever you want. But you all need to heal, and you're safer here than out there alone."
She studies me for a long moment, then nods slowly. "We'll stay. For now."
It's not trust. But it's a start.
By the time I make it home, the sun has set and exhaustion drags at my bones. The cabin is warm and lit from within, smoke curling from the chimney. Home.
Ressa looks up when I enter, setting aside the book she was reading. She takes one look at my face and crosses to me, her arms sliding around my waist.
"Bad?"
"Bad." I hold her tight, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair. "Eight of them. All traumatized. All hurt in ways that will take time to heal."
"Like me."
"Yes. Like you." I pull back enough to see her face. "One of them especially. Sharp-tongued, protective, ready to fight despite being terrified. Reminded me of you that first day."
Ressa's expression softens. "Will they be okay?"
"Physically, yes. Emotionally..." I shrug. "That depends on them. On whether they can find safety here. People who make them feel like staying is worth the risk."
"People like you did for me."
"People like you'll be for them," I correct. "Once they're settled, once they're ready, you and Saela and Shae can show them this place isn't like where they came from."
She nods slowly, already thinking ahead. "I'd like that. Helping them. Giving back what was given to me."
"You're extraordinary. You know that?"
"I'm practical." But she's smiling as she says it. "And I love that you spent all day helping traumatized humans instead of doing literally anything else. It's very you."
"Is that a compliment?"
"It is." She tugs me toward the bedroom. "Now come to bed before you fall over. You look exhausted."
"I am." But I follow willingly, already feeling the tension drain from my shoulders. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"Being here. Being you. Loving me despite my terrible jokes and complete inability to not bring work home."
She pushes me down onto the bed and climbs into my lap, her hands framing my face. "I love you because of those things, not despite them. You're good, Falla. Good all the way through. It's one of the reasons I chose you."
"One of them?"
"Well, the other reasons are decidedly less wholesome." She kisses me softly. "But we can explore those later. For now, just rest."
I pull her down beside me, tucking her against my chest. She fits perfectly there, her body relaxing into mine like we were designed to complement each other.
"I'm glad you're here," I murmur into her hair.
"Me too." Her fingers trace idle patterns on my chest. "Even on days like this. Especially on days like this."
We lie together in the quiet dark, her breathing evening out as sleep claims her. I hold her close and think about the women at the edge of the settlement, about how they'll need time and patience and people who understand what they've survived.
Think about how Ressa gave me a chance despite every reason not to. How she chose to be brave when staying broken would have been easier.
Tomorrow, those eight women will wake up in Frostfang territory, uncertain and afraid. But they'll have options Stonevein never gave them. Safety. Medical care. And eventually, if they choose it, people like Ressa who understand exactly what they're going through.
It's not perfect. Trauma doesn't heal cleanly or quickly. But it's a start.
And sometimes, a start is enough.
That's what brought Ressa and me together. A small start, and I have everything I never knew I wanted. Everything I'd never give up.
And I will never admit it's all thanks to Drogath and his ridiculous human holidays.