User blog:Leea/The Tale of Voronwe, Chapter 2

4th Era 100, 7th of First Seed, Summerset Isle
Balasian pushed an errant wisp of hair out of his eyes as he stood in the doorway of Curwe's home. His gaze sweeping the living room, he remarked, "Quite homey."

Having walked ahead of him, Curwe stood in the middle of the room and frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, indignation creeping into her voice.

"Exactly what I said. Your home invokes a nice, comforting feeling."

"Oh..." she replied, the indignation falling flat, "Well, that's a good thing."

Suddenly, Balasian began to topple sideways, and she rushed forward and caught him. Leading him to a chair by the fireplace, she saw that as he sat down, there, in his side, was part of an arrow shaft that she hadn't noticed earlier, due to the dim lamplight. It looked like it was already getting infected.

Looking at the wound with growing concern, she managed to force out, "You're hurt."

He slumped back in the chair, replying, "I know. An archer caught me as I was..." He paused, searching for the right word. "As I was...leaving...Pyandonea. I snapped the shaft off so I could swim easier."

Gently touching the area around the puncture site, she told him that she could help him, but only if she could take out the arrow.

He gritted his teeth. "Do it."

Kneeling by the chair, and firmly grasping the shaft, Curwe yanked it out quickly. Trying to muffle his scream, Balasian subsided to growls and pitiful groans as his forehead broke out in pirspiration. She was relieved when she saw that the arrow wasn't as deeply burrowed as she first thought; it only having been stopped by his last rib. Sopping up the blood with a corner of his shirt, she inserted her hand under the shirt and placed it on the wound, her hand already begining to glow with the power of the healing spell. Within seconds, the bleeding stopped and the flesh knitted together, the pain leaving and a warm, tingly feeling taking its place. His head dropping down, he opened his eyes and looked at her in astonishment. "You're a natural. I'd even go as far as to say you're better than a trained healer." She blushed and looked away. "My mother taught me everything I know about healing."

"She was a priest? Or a mage?"

"No. She farmed pearls."

"A humble profession."

"I guess you could call it that." She paused. "Why didn't you get rid of the arrow yourself?"

Looking down at her as she kneeled on the floor, he replied, "I would have left even more of a blood trail in the water. Easy way for a predator to track my movements."

Standing up once more, she glanced down on the seated Elf. More color had seemed to be blushed into his cheeks, if such a thing were possible. It still puzzled her that someone who looked like he should be blind wasn't. She wondered how their eyes got to be that way. Was it a curse, like the Dunmer? Feeling her gaze, he looked up and met her eyes. There was an awkward moment of silence. As she looked away in embarrasment, Balasian pretended not to notice and placed his hands on his knees and pushed himself into the chair, stretching his back. She could hear the faint clicks of his spine resetting.

Giving herself a shake, she drew herself up straighter, and asked as she looked down again, "I'm forgetting myself. Would you like some new clothes? I think your current ones need replacing."

Grinning crookedly out of one corner of his mouth, he replied, "I don't wear women's dresses."

His grin made her laugh. "No. I have some of my father's old clothes. I think you would fit them."

Looking down at the remains of his clothes, he appeared to consider. "Very well."

"I'll go get them," she offered. "You can dress here while I get you something to eat. You are hungry, aren't you?"

A famished look passed over his white eyes. "I haven't eaten anything in two days."

Her eyes grew large in astonishment. "Then you must be starving. I'll hurry then."

Hurrying into her bedroom, she pulled the boxes of her father's old things out from under her bed, not having been able to bear the thought of throwing them away. Blowing the dust off the tops before opening them, she rummaged for a set of clothes, and then grabbed them up and returned to the hearth. She found Balasian standing by the chair, testing the healed puncture site with his hand. He seemed even taller here than he did outside, though this was probably a trick of the light, she thought.

Taking his hand away from his side, he looked up as she approached and took the clothes from her outstretched hands. He thanked her again for the healing. "I likely would have not lasted much longer without your help."

Not used to accolades, she blushed again. Glancing down momentarily, she looked back up and asked, "The clothes are to your liking?"

"Yes. They do indeed look like they will fit."

"I'm going to make a stew. Or would you like something else? I could probably make some--"

He laid a hand on her shoulder. "Stew will be perfect. You need not make a ten course meal."

She chuckled nervously. "All right. I just..." She sighed and looked up. "I don't want to offend the first guest I've had here in...years."

His eyes were kind. "You have done nothing to offend. I am indebted to you for your kindess."

Nodding, unable to find words, Curwe turned her back and walked into the kitchen as Balasian started dressing in the new clothes.