“Welcome back, my elfling,” another familiar voice says, and Elowyn blinks, trying to focus.
“Pera?”
“I’m here.”
“Cer—”
“Yes.” Cerian’s voice comes from some distant place in the room.
“We’re all here, my darling.” A soft hand brushes aside the hair on her forehead in a familiar and comforting touch. How many times did she lie beside Mother, telling her all about her day while Mother held her and brushed aside her hair like that?
Someone keeps prodding her, and she weakly pushes him away.
“It’s me, El. I need to check your wound and your vitals,” Tharios says softly.
“Tharios?”
“Who else has been keeping you out of trouble for most of your life?”
“I’m pretty sure the answer to that is everyone,” Pera says with a gentle laugh, and a smile wants to tug at Elowyn’s lips, but she can barely muster the energy for that.
The hand holding hers lets go, and panic fills her. “Rominy! Rom—”
“I’m still here. I was just letting Tharios move closer.”
There are whispers as she tries to quiet her panic at the loss of his hand. Then the bed shifts beside her, and Rominy’s cheek presses against her temple, replacing Mother’s gentle touch. She can smell the shampoo in his hair, though a masculine scent, uniquely his, accompanies it.
“I’m not going anywhere, love,” he whispers near her ear, and she relaxes again.
“So tired,” she whispers.
“Just rest, all right?”
“What if...I don’t—”
“Wake up?” Tharios finishes for her as he looks into her eyes while Pera shines one of his lights at her, and she blinks at the brightness. “You will,” Tharios says.
“Sleep, love,” Rominy whispers. “I’ll be here when you wake again.”
But she can’t fight it, even if she wanted to, and her eyes drift closed as Rominy’s nearness lulls her back to sleep.
Throughouttheday,Elowyndrifts in and out of consciousness, and Arisanna can’t convince Cerian to do anything other than stand guard over his sister. He won’t eat. He’ll barely speak.
But Elowyn is well cared for.
And Cerian needs a break, to eat if nothing else.
“Perhaps we should collect the candy we bought for Elowyn,” Arisanna whispers near his ear.
And another apple for him.
He seems hesitant to leave, but the thought of doing something useful for his sister wins out, and he nods.
Together, they make their way into the corridor, and Cerian clings to Arisanna’s hand as they climb the stairs to their room.
Once inside, he makes a beeline for the pail, but she closes the door behind them and leans against it.
Not that he couldn’t easily move her. But hopefully, he gets the message.
