Chapter 21 #3
What his mother had been through, what it meant for Boden—Alvara couldn’t swallow past the lump forming in her throat. “That’s why you grew up away from Nyr, isn’t it? I’m so sorry, Boden.”
He looked at her, his lips turning up for a moment only to crumple.
“My mother fled out of fear of what my grandfather might do when I was born. She couldn’t travel far in her condition, especially through Dalvi’s rougher terrain, so she went to Ela instead.
She showed up on the doorstep of a close friend from her youngling years who had settled in Tasírath.
That friend knew Tam’s stance against the king’s treatment of non-elves and introduced the two of them.
He helped my mother when she needed it most, becoming my father after I was born.
Over the years, they grew to love each other, and eventually Lilja arrived. ”
Alvara lowered the bowl she had imprisoned in her hands. “But why work for King Einar? If you’re a demi-elf…”
All the life evaporated from his eyes, and a haunting vacancy took its place.
“My father worked in his court. I would have been killed without him. And when the king eventually learned what I was, he alerted everyone in the city. I was barely admitted into the academy, miserable as it was, and when I left, no one was willing to give a demi-elf like me a job. It isn’t like that in every kingdom, but in Ela, the elves either agree with King Einar or are too afraid to say otherwise. Some even leave altogether.”
“And your father helped you get a position in the palace.”
“The king learned I could shapeshift and became interested in utilizing me as a spy. His pet.” He spat the last word as if it tasted foul on his tongue.
“I had no other choice. I know part of him did it to keep an eye on me and to force me to hurt other demi-elves and humans. To remind me how little I’m worth to the elves around me. ”
How could any person think of a response to that? A life spent stewing in others’ hatred of him, and yet somehow Boden still managed to emanate light. Joy, even.
He saved her from fumbling over her words by filling the weighted silence. “It always turns out to be a bit of a conversation killer, though I can’t imagine why. Your turn.”
“What?”
“I divulged something personal.” Boden flicked her in the arm with his towel. “Now it’s your turn.”
Alvara submerged another dish in the water. “I most definitely did not agree to that.”
“I’m not asking for your darkest secrets, Alvara. Even your favorite color will do. It is normally how people carry on conversations.”
She wiggled her fingers under the cold water and settled on a memory of home that had been bubbling to the surface since abandoning Vorianta.
“My father was a tarinthúr, so we spent most nights as a family around the fire, listening to his stories. He always finished with the story of Vitharen, his favorite. Don’t ask me why—I find the whole chopped up body parts and brokenhearted lover thing to be gruesome and depressing. ”
She paused, but Boden stared intently into the pan he was drying, undoubtedly using Alvara’s own trick on herself.
Would it hurt or help her to let out more pieces of her father?
“My father always reminisced about what the Golden Age of the elves must have been like. He loved stories and was my strongest supporter when I wanted to train as a weaponsmith. He had followed his heart and always wanted Eloisa and I to follow ours. But…after my sister and mother passed, he shut himself away. It almost felt like he was already fading, right in front of me.”
The words flowed out more readily than she had anticipated, laying a small shred of her soul bare for Boden to see.
But instead of shying from her hurt, he locked eyes with her, his jaw set.
“My father fought for me from the day I was born until his very last breath. He’s a large part of the reason I do what I do—fight for others who aren’t privileged to have someone like him on their side.
I’m not sure what I would have become without him. ”
“I think you would have turned out all right. Maybe a little less pompous, but we’ll never know.”
A boisterous laugh erupted from Boden, loud enough that the other kitchen workers looked their way. “Now that is something I haven’t heard before. And here I thought you were beginning to find me tolerable.”
“Sufferable might be the word I was looking for. You do steal the blankets at night.”
“That was one time! At least I can confidently say I don’t snore.”
Her jaw dropped. “I do not snore. Liar.”
The light had returned to Boden’s amber eyes. “You should ask Pyry, I’m sure he would agree.”
The grin that had started to grow on Alvara’s lips slipped. “I think there are lots of things he wouldn’t tell me.” And now he was in Ilmanir for gods knew how long. “I should go. See you at training tomorrow.”
She wouldn’t sleep. Her bed would feel too big, too cold after sharing it with someone for days, even if that someone was Boden. But perhaps the time alone would do her good and force her to process everything that had happened.
Alvara hesitated, one foot out the door. “Blue. My favorite color is blue.”