“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 alsomastered 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.
