Re （Epilog）
Hannah?
“Drokahr… I can’t breathe…”
“Hmm? Nonsense.”
“No, seriously. You’re squeezing the life out of me.”
“But I need you closer, mate.”
I winced playfully, smiling into his chest. He drew lazy circles along my bare back, clearly enjoying himself as well. Mornings usually started like this ever since we arrived back at camp.
We had made it back around the time summer had truly begun.
The sun stood bright in the sky as we spotted Malek in his usual place at the smithy.
As soon as he noticed us, he called out to his family.
Sen was, of course, the first to sprint out, followed closely by Nara and the twins.
It was good to be back. I had missed them.
We were able to stay with them for a while, sleeping near the firepit.
It took us some time to begin building our own home, but eventually we managed to put up a tent.
It wasn’t as large or as well furnished as Drokahr’s old warrior tent.
There was no separate bathroom—everything had to fit into a single room.
But honestly, it was fine. It was enough for the two of us.
It was beautiful and precious because it was ours. We had made it. Everything inside was chosen by us.
At first, we only had a bed. Most of our time back then was spent with Nara and Malek anyway.
Slowly, we added things: an old bathtub a neighbour no longer needed, a small table, a few shelves.
I asked Nara if she could teach me how to work with fabric—how to make pillows and blankets. She happily agreed.
To be honest, the results were hideous. Sewing clearly wasn’t my strong suit. I was terribly embarrassed and didn’t want to show Drokahr, but he refused to give up until I relented.
“You don’t have to use them. Maybe Nara can fix them…” I said, my cheeks burning.
“No. They are perfect,” he replied.
He placed them on the bed and refused to sleep on anything else.
My wounds healed quite well during our journey, though my hands remained horribly dry.
Nara introduced me to the camp’s healer, Ada—an elderly orc woman who reminded me of a softer, kinder version of the mistress.
Ada made a salve from forest herbs for my hands, something I could apply like a hand cream.
I truly enjoyed talking to her and watching her work. Dried flowers and herbs crowned her tent, filling it with a soft, earthy scent.
“Say, do you want to try making one yourself?” she asked one day over tea.
“I would love that,” I said, and I truly meant it.
So whenever I wasn’t working on our home, helping Nara, or watching the children, I could be found at Ada’s tent—making salves, ointments, even simple medicines. Together, we explored the forest, gathering flowers and herbs. She taught me what each could be used for and which plants to avoid.
I loved learning. She had so much knowledge, so much to give.
I began making small things for others: another hand cream for Drokahr and Malek, a tea blend of herbs and dried fruits for Nara. When the twins started coughing, I prepared an ointment to soothe them. And when Sen played too rough and scraped his knees, I made him something to help his wounds heal.
I was far better at this than sewing and stitching—but I still wanted to learn from Nara. She was a patient teacher.
Slowly, I began to feel like I belonged. Like I was welcome.
Of course, the warrior camp remained off-limits, but Solen, Halvar, and even Mor and Tom would visit us from time to time. Drokahr told me what they had done for me—how they helped uncover where I had been. I was deeply grateful to them.
Drokahr, too, seemed to have settled into his new life. I had worried he might regret leaving his role as a warrior behind.
“My place is with you. I do not wish for anything else,” he always said.
It warmed my heart to be loved so deeply. I loved him just as fiercely.
Sen was beyond excited to have his uncle around all day, demanding playtime whenever possible. He never really asked why Drokahr and I no longer lived in the warrior camp. I don’t think it mattered to him—he was simply happy Drokahr was there.
Malek and Drokahr worked together at the smithy.
I wish I could say everything between them was harmonious, but both had thick skulls.
One day, while Nara and I were outside playing with the children, we heard raised voices.
That wasn’t unusual. However, when a hammer flew past us, followed shortly by an axe, we decided it would be safer to continue playing indoors.
As autumn nights grew colder, we added an oven to our tent. Drokahr and I spent many hours gathering firewood until a neat stack sat beside our home. By then, my sewing had improved enough that I managed to make us a blanket for the bed.
Soon, thick snowflakes covered our tent.
Sen, of course, insisted on building his very own snoworc of the season.
He hadn’t exaggerated when he said he would show it to all his friends.
Before long, one snoworc after another appeared across the camp—a whole army.
Each one different. Some angry, some smiling.
Some with twig arms, others with arrows, and I even spotted one with an axe for an arm.
Life was good, I thought as I made my way back from Ada’s tent.
“I’m home,” I called softly as I stepped inside.
Drokahr was tending the fire. “I have missed you.”
I laughed. “I was only gone for half the afternoon.”
He pulled me close and kissed me. “Too long.”
At night, we would huddle together in bed, stealing kisses, exploring each other, cuddling, whispering how much we loved one another. It was everything I had ever dreamed of.
As the snow continued to fall outside our cozy little home, we held each other close—never wanting to let go.
----
THANK YOU!
I am beyond grateful that so many of you decided to read my story. I have never done anything like this before, so seeing so many of you add it to your reading lists, comment, and react has been truly unbelievable to me.
This story was a challenge for me as well, and I learned a great deal along the way. I want to continue improving my writing and keep telling stories, because I have discovered how much joy it brings me.
Once again, thank you from the bottom of my heart — and I hope to see you again in Hidden Among Crowns.