Healing
Drokahr
We made it out of the city as night fell.
Not wanting to stop immediately, we walked until it was too dark to see.
A bit further from the road, we made camp.
While I started a fire, Hannah laid out our bedrolls.
She placed hers opposite mine, across from the fire.
I wished she was closer, right next to me, but I decided not to press. She needed space. I understood.
We walked mostly in silence, but she didn’t let go of my hand. I wasn’t sure how she felt. Her face remained neutral as she settled on her bedroll, taking off her shoes and warming her toes by the fire.
“Are you hungry?” I asked softly. We had bought rations in town. They wouldn’t last for the whole trip; I’d have to hunt eventually. Still, for now, I could stay with her and not leave her alone.
“Yes. I think I am.” She nodded. I divided bits of dried meat and bread between us. We ate quietly. I tried not to stare at her, though all I wanted was to. It felt fragile, almost unreal, to have her here. I feared that if I looked away for even a second, she might vanish again.
Sometimes when I dared to glance at her, I caught her looking too. She would quickly avert her eyes, cheeks flushing pink. I wanted to touch her, hold her close, but I restrained myself.
After we finished, Hannah tried to undo her hair. It was tied back in a tight knot at the base of her neck, and her bandaged hands made it difficult. She huffed in frustration, tugging repeatedly.
“Do you want me to help?” I asked, unsure if she’d want me that close.
Her eyes hesitated, silently weighing it. Finally, she gave a small nod and stood. With her back to me, she crouched in front of me. My urge to pull her close was overwhelming. Instead, I carefully snapped the string with my claws, and her hair fell loose.
“Finally… it was so tight,” she exhaled, a mix of relief and irritation.
I wove my hands gently through her hair, untangling it. “Your hair’s grown long.”
“I know. We’ll have to cut it once we’re back.” Her voice softened, quieter now. “You said you aren’t allowed in camp anymore. How can we go back then?”
“I’m not allowed inside the warrior camp. The family camp is different. Solkar can only do so much, and as long as I keep quiet, we can stay.”
She hummed. “Could you… maybe… massage my scalp?”
“Massage your scalp?”
“Yes… like you did in the bathtub. It’s itchy from being pulled back so tightly, and I can’t do it myself.” She lifted her bandaged hands.
I remembered that first bath together, how I had washed her hair.
I was thrilled she wanted that from me again.
Of course I would. For as long as she wanted.
I drew small circles along her scalp, careful not to hurt her.
Her head tilted slightly, leaning into my touch, and a small, soft sound escaped her lips.
My chest warmed at the reaction; she trusted me enough to relax like this.
“I’m sorry… it’s dirty. I need to wash it.” Embarrassment tinged her voice.
“I’ll wash it for you, if you like.” I didn’t care how dirty her hair was. I just wanted her close.
“That would be nice.”
After a while, I gently braided her hair down her back, keeping it out of the way. She watched me with a faint smile, softening her features. When she finally returned to her bedroll, I felt a pang of loneliness—but also immense relief. She was safe, she was here, and she let me be near her.
“Good night,” she said, lying down and pulling the blanket over herself.
“Good night, Hannah,” I replied, doing the same.
Morning broke, and we were already on the road again, hands intertwined. Hannah asked a few questions about Malek and his family, about how they were and what they had been up to.
“Will we stay with them?”
“For now, yes. But I want to build a tent for us. Smaller than our previous home, and we’ll craft the furniture ourselves.” I felt a flicker of nervousness. Would she mind? I’d build her anything she wanted.
“Hmm, that sounds nice. Could Nara teach me to make pillows?” she asked softly. Her curiosity surprised me. I cleared my throat. “You want to make pillows?”
“Should I not? Or should I do something else?” Her brow furrowed, wincing slightly at her wound.
Alarm shot through me. “No, anything you want.”
We continued in silence. Night fell, and we camped near a small river. “Could you help me with my bandages?” she asked after dinner.
“Of course.”
She crouched next to me on my bedroll. I carefully removed her old bandages. Her hands looked much better thanks to the ointment, but they still needed care. When I finished, she asked softly, “Do you mind if I sit here with you?”
Of course I didn’t. I shook my head. As she moved closer, our thighs touching, I wrapped my arms around her shoulders.
My heart hammered. Would she pull away? She didn’t.
Her head rested on my side. I pulled her closer, burying my cheek in her hair.
Everything broken felt like it was stitching itself together again.
“I missed you so much,” I whispered. She trembled slightly.
“I missed you too. So much.” Her voice quivered with tears. I held her tightly as they fell onto my tunic.
We stayed that way until she calmed. Then, good nights again. I watched her from across the fire a while longer before closing my eyes.
Sometimes Hannah let me carry her when she was too tired. She’d wrap her arms around my neck, nuzzling into me. Slowly, we grew closer again. I washed her hair at the occasional inn. If nightmares woke her, I was always there, holding her, speaking comfort.
One night, I found a small cave along the road. She placed her bedroll next to mine. Words couldn′t describe the surge of emotions that hit me. I pulled her close, keeping her tightly wrapped in my arms.
I woke at sunrise.
“Hannah?” No answer.
“Hannah?” Again, silence.
I opened my eyes. She wasn’t there.
Hannah
I had woken a while ago, while it was still dark outside. Drokahr was snoring softly next to me. Our campfire had nearly burned out; only a few orange embers remained. I stayed still, listening to nature slowly waking, to the soft crackling of the last pieces of firewood.
I enjoyed Drokahr’s warmth and closeness. It felt unbelievably good to be in his arms again. He had doted on me ever since we left the bathhouse. At times it was almost overwhelming—but I liked it. And I could see in his eyes how much he needed it too.
Carefully, I untangled myself from him. The cold morning air made me shiver, but I wanted a moment to myself. I exited the cave and sat down in the grass. We had made camp a little way up a hill, and from here I had a clear view of the path below and the forest stretching beyond it.
The sky was still dark, only a few stars lingering. I wondered how far away Earth was. Where it even was anymore. So much had happened—good and bad—that being back with Drokahr almost felt like a miracle. Too good to be true.
At first, I had been hesitant to let him touch me. Afraid of how I would react. Afraid of how he would react. But as the days passed, I realised how touch-starved I truly was. I craved his touch. I wanted to be held, to be cared for. I needed it after everything I had been through.
He gave me space. Never pushed, never demanded. I was grateful for that. It meant more to me than he probably realised. For once, I felt like I was in control. So many things had happened to me without my consent. Now, for the first time in what felt like forever, I had agency again.
Slowly, the sky began to lighten. On the horizon, the first rays of sunlight appeared. A new day. Full of possibilities. Full of choices.
I knew what I wanted.
When Drokahr stepped out of the cave, his expression tense, clearly upset that I wasn’t there, I smiled softly. “Sorry. I just wanted to see the sunrise.”
“You could have told me,” he said, grumpy and worried all at once.
I laughed quietly. “Don’t be angry. I needed some time to think. To understand what I want.”
“And what do you want?” His voice held caution, as if he were afraid of the answer.
“I’ve survived for so long,” I said softly. “I want to start living again.”
I tugged at his shirt, pulling him closer. “With you.”
He smiled, swallowing hard, clearly unsure what to say.
My smile widened. “So… mate, huh?”
“If you wish,” he replied carefully.
“I think I do. But help me out—what exactly does that entail?”
He hummed, stepping closer, arms sliding around my waist. I mirrored the gesture, resting my hands against him.
“Something like this.”
I met him halfway as our lips finally joined.