Page 78 of In Darkness Forged
Vanadar. She still had to convince the regent to accept the bargain she’d made with the Arantha Queen. Looking down at her scarred, blood-stained hands and torn trousers, Aislin could only shrug. She was filthy, and her hair was a tangled mess. Her clothing stank, but she had nothing else to wear.
“There’s no making me other than what I am,” she said. “Even if I wash the blood from these hands, I will still be a human. Vanadar is unlikely to respect me more just because I am clean.”
Tal reached out and took her hands in his, holding them palm up in a gentle grip. “If he were wise, he would respect you no matter how you appear, for the simple fact that you survived what has claimed the lives of many night elves in the past. He would see your wounds and know that he is in the presence of a warrior.”
She shook her head. “Not a warrior, Tal. Just a woman.”
“You are far more than ‘just’ anything.”
He spoke the words with conviction, and Aislin had to reclaim her hands before her blush became painfully evident.
“But you are right that we should make haste. If the Marlord dies before we return, there will be no bargaining for either of us.”
Every inch of her body protested as she rose from the ground and made her way on shaking legs to the tiny stream not far from camp. She dared not attempt to take stock of all her injuries, but was able to soak the broken skin on her knees and cleanse most of the blood from her hands. Her ribs stabbed at her when she twisted or bent too far, and whenever she moved her right arm, her back twinged as if it were a purple mass of bruises.
But she could walk, and she could ride, and that meant she could make it home. Old Man Eben could help her heal, and then… And then…
It was too much to consider right at that moment. She would deal with her plans for the future when the time came. She could not face those questions now, not when any thoughts beyond tonight meant reckoning with the possibility of returning home alone, without the stone she’d sworn to fix. Without any way to repay Lord Dreichel, and without…
Without Tal.
The remaining hours she would spend in his company now seemed terrifyingly short. When they returned to the settlement, he would claim his challenge, and there was always a chance Paendreth might kill him.
Win or lose, however, their paths diverged, and the thought drove an unexpected spear of pain deep into her chest. After tomorrow, there was no reason for them to remain together. After tomorrow, she would never hear his voice again, never laugh at his endearing scowl, never have her face washed by a dreadwolf’s disgusting tongue.
The pain took her breath away, but it was her own fault. She’d left her heart unguarded, and it had run straight into the arms of a man it could never have.
It was clear enough that Tal no longer disliked her, and perhaps even had some affection for her. At the very least, her life mattered deeply to him. But he had said no words that Aislin could interpret as more than his long-denied protective instincts finding a new home.
If she could have nothing else, she would take his friendship, but it would make no difference to her heart in the end. When he left, it would be irretrievably broken, and Aislin acknowledged that inevitable anguish even as she resolved not to waste a single moment of whatever time they might be granted.
* * *
Their ride was long and grueling, even more so than Aislin’s first time traveling by dreadwolf. They stopped only to drink, keeping to the road and outrunning whatever predators dared consider them a target.
Aislin clung to Tal as they ran, fixing those moments in her memory. She wondered whether with each passing year they would come to seem more like a dream—the beauty of the night forest, the powerful stride of the dreadwolf beneath her, and the warm, unyielding strength of Tal, who never wavered throughout that long night.
When they finally reached the edges of the night elf settlement, Cuan came to a stop, his entire body drooping with weariness. Tal helped Aislin dismount, then steadied her against his side for a moment until she could stand.
“We will approach on foot,” he said quietly, as Aislin tried to find her balance despite the galloping of the earth underfoot. “I would not expose Cuan to their hostility or misunderstandings. Some night elves view his size as a challenge for their hunting form.”
Aislin took a moment to give the dreadwolf a long hug and let him wash her face one last time. Who even knew how and when she would be leaving here? Whether she would ever see him again?
Then she looked up at Tal with a grim nod. “I’m ready,” she said, and they strode on into the settlement together.
It was near dawn, when most night elves would be home and preparing to sleep for the day. Only a few residents were out and about, but Tal and Aislin were quickly confronted by an armed guard who eyed them with an understandable blend of hostility and curiosity.
“We seek Vanadar,” Tal said, ignoring the blade pointed at his chest and addressing his challenger with an air of weary boredom.
The guard sneered as best he could while having to lookupat a trespasser. “The regent does not grant an audience to every beggar who passes through Revenfell. Be on your way, unless you would prefer to visit the inside of a cell.”
“I have already spent all the time I intend to on the inside of the Marlord’s dungeons,” Tal returned, his eyes taking on a sinister glow. “Either you can take us to the regent, or we will find him for ourselves.”
The guard laughed, and his blade moved to rest against the side of Tal’s neck. “I fear no wilding, let alone a human,” he scoffed. “And you have been sufficiently warned. Leave, or accept the consequences.”
“Very well,” Tal said. “I accept them.”
Somehow, he’d been hiding the extent of his power. Or perhaps the guard had simply not been paying attention. But a moment later, Tal was no longer merely a ragged night elf in travel-worn clothing.