60. A friend in need



S.A 2061

In the early days of winter, in the year 2061, Orneth's hand slowly began to heal, and the fever and pain that had once tormented her were now almost gone. Although her vision was not as sharp as before, she was grateful that she was not completely deprived of her sight. In the aftermath of the accident, only a select few had visited her, including Demdor and Falchiel. Unfortunately, Falchiel seemed a bit uncertain in Orneth's presence and was quite disturbed by her lost left hand. She even went so far as to comment on the change in Orneth's left eye, pointing out that the pupil and iris had lightened considerably. This made Orneth feel hurt, but she recognized that this was a traumatic experience for everyone involved, and she decided to be understanding of Falchiel's unease.

As for Oldaer and Thandir, they had yet to make a visit, as they were preoccupied with the challenges of managing the farm. Thandir, who had just turned thirteen, had taken on the additional responsibility of helping Oldaer with the lighthouse. Meanwhile, Falchon was nowhere to be seen. Orneth could only hope that he was busy assisting Oldaer and not avoiding her entirely.

Time did not seem to be a great healer, as the repercussions of the accident that occurred months ago still lingered. Orneth was also struggling with another worry. She noticed that her skin had grown thinner, allowing her veins to be visible through it. Furthermore, she realized that her stomach had started to grow. She did her best to ignore it, but deep down, she knew what it might mean. If she was carrying Falquando's child, she would not be able to face it. The thought of living with that truth was unbearable.

Amidst her concerns, Demdor was the only one who showed genuine care and concern for her well-being. He visited her almost every day to check on her progress. Sometimes he spoke, and other times, he remained silent, offering only his warm presence. Orneth had grown incredibly fond of him, and she realized that she could not imagine living without him by her side.

One snowy day, Demdor came to check on her once again. Sitting next to her bed, he spoke in a stern voice, "I have prepared a bath for you. It is time for you to get up and start training to use your right hand, now that your wounds have healed." Orneth hesitated, shaking her head in uncertainty. However, Demdor was firm, "You have a daughter to take care of. You cannot stay in bed forever." Orneth looked at Demdor, surprised by his unyielding tone, and shared her concerns, "I wish she wasn't so scared of me." Demdor shook his head in disagreement, "No, she is not scared of you. She is only afraid because she can sense that you are not your usual self." Without further ado, he continued, "Come, it's time to start the next phase of your recovery."

Orneth felt as though every bone in her body had turned to dust as she rose from her bed. Her limbs were stiff from the many days she had spent lying down. Demdor took her hand and led her out of the backdoor to the bath-house. The first snow had fallen, and she looked around in wonder. Demdor observed her as they stepped inside, and he closed the door behind them. The torches on the wall cast a warm and welcoming glow over the room. Outside, the darkness was illuminated by the delicate dance of snowflakes, resembling fireflies fluttering against the windows.

In the center of the room, Demdor had prepared a bath for her. Orneth could see the steam rising from the hot water, and there was a layer of foam floating on the surface. She was moved by the gesture and the attention to detail. She noticed a vase of lavender flowers beside the bath too. She turned to Demdor, her voice breaking slightly.

"Demdor, I am forever grateful for everything you have done for me. I know I don't deserve your kindness. I have caused pain to many of my friends, including you. I have hurt you too, haven't I?" Demdor shook his head gently. "You don't need to blame yourself anymore, Orneth. There are others who are struggling more. Falchon has his own wounds to heal, and I am trying to help him as much as I can."

Orneth looked at him with tenderness. "Oh, Demdor. But what about you? Does anyone ask how you are doing?"He helped her into the bath and turned away as she submerged herself into the warm and soothing water. Then he spoke, "It's not important. I'm fine." Orneth looked at him, noticing his reluctance to speak about himself. She felt frustrated as she tried to untangle her hair with one hand, but Demdor saw her struggles and walked towards her with a brush. He stood by her side and said, "Let me help you." He gently brushed her long, golden hair, and Orneth closed her eyes in a mix of sadness and gratitude for the tender moment they shared.

Orneth cast her gaze upon her left arm, and a sudden pang of grief consumed her as she saw the damage that had been done. The sight was strange, foreign, and overwhelming. Her arm was now shorter, no longer complete, and she knew with a deep sense of sorrow that she would never be able to hunt or wield her bow with the same skill and precision as before. The thought of not being able to use her woodworking skills or carve beautiful designs into wood also weighed heavily on her mind. But it was the thought of not being able to hold Falchiel again, to help her friend in times of need, that truly troubled her heart.

Her thoughts were soon interrupted by the sight of snow outside. She shifted her focus towards the falling flakes, determined to push away the worrying thoughts that threatened to consume her. But she knew it was only a temporary relief, for the biggest worry of all was the new life growing inside her. She could not bear to think about it, not now.

In her moment of distress, her mind wandered to Demdor once again. He was observing her movements while he brushed her hair, his presence comforting in a way she couldn't quite explain. It was then that she noticed how close he was to her, closer than she would normally have been comfortable with. But in her current state, she didn't care. She needed help, and he had been there before, saving her life during Falchiel's birth.

 

As Demdor gently washed her face, neck, and shoulders with a soft cloth, his soothing and warm voice offered words of comfort and encouragement. "You will get through this, Orneth. Tomorrow, we'll begin training your hand. Let's explore all possibilities and not dwell on limitations." His words acted as a balm to her wounded soul. Then, he fell silent for a moment. "I see you're pregnant. Is it Falquando's child?" he asked, his voice trembling with emotion. Orneth could only nod, the weight of her situation nearly overwhelming her. "It seems like the only possibility. Something happened in the boathouse along the pier. I swear it wasn't consensual. I don't even remember how it happened. I woke up unconscious after the incident," she explained, her voice breaking with emotion. Tears flooded over her cheeks as she shook with pure agony and pain.