The Crowned Captive

She was still sitting there, tears rolling down her cheeks, as Cordan walked into the field, eyebrows raised at her nakedness but otherwise quiet. His nose flared, obviously scenting the act that had just occurred. She knew she deserved a “told you so” or some sort of beratement for not heeding his words, but no such thing came. Without a sound, he came and sat next to her, offering a flask from somewhere against his body. She shook her head, but he was not having it. Gently, he grabbed her hand and placed the cold metal within her grasp. With a withering look towards him, she accepted and drank deeply. The liquor burned her throat, but she ignored the sting, taking another gulp.

“Slow down, Morana. I was meaning to take the edge off, not the night away,” he finally said, gently extracting the flask from her mouth.

“He was unhappy with me,” was her only reply. Her tears threatened to start anew with the words spoken out loud.

“No, no. He was unhappy with himself, the oaf. You could smell his pleasure from a mile away,” Coran comforted, rubbing her arm gently as if she was not still naked beside him.

“Yet he left me alone in a field because he couldn’t stand to be around me anymore.”

“Because he feels he has wronged you. Again, nothing you have done, just his mind playing tricks on him.”

She sat there for a moment, staring up at the star-speckled sky, tears still rolling down her cheeks. She tried to make herself believe, even for a moment, that she had no fault in all of this. Was she so obliged to reveal her inexperience? Surely it had been inferred from her long history of loneliness. He had already known basically every other detail about her. Why should she know he did not know this?

“Come on,” Cordan finally spoke. “Let’s get you cleaned up. There is a stream nearby.”

She attempted to stand, but her legs threatened to give way. Without hesitation, Cordan scooped her up, mess and all, and carried her through the forest. Every few moments, he looked down at her with gentle eyes, as if to check she was still there. Without Rowan’s magic the cold air clawed at her nakedness, but the liquor in her gut quickly helped to stave off its advances.

Eventually, they reached the steam, a thin line of bubbling water wandering through the woods. No plants or fish adorned its rocky bottom, making Morana feel all the safer to bathe. Cordan eased her down onto the bank then, gently kneeling beside her. Without hesitation, he scooped water from the strength and gently began washing her naked body. Tears streamed down her face anew as he did so, only fuelled further when he gently brushed his hair from her face and kissed her forehead. Once her thighs were clean, he rinsed his hands and sat down beside her, cuddling her to his chest.

“Do you often have to look after Rowan’s women after he is done with them?” She asked, voice bitter, as she finally stopped the flow of tears from her face. A laugh reverberated through Cordan’s chest in response.

“You would be surprised, Morana. Everybody wants a pretty highborn elf until they get caught up in whatever emotional turmoil Rowan is going through. I often have to clean up his messes with women.”

“I didn’t- Rowan and I didn’t end up doing this because he was some pretty highborn,” she tried to explain, suddenly feeling shame.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Morana. I am your friend, and I am here to support you in whatever choices you make,” he whispered soothingly. “If those chooses are you want to try something that is not as difficult as Rowan, I am here.” His eyes twinkled with something between mischief and sincerity, and her body reacted accordingly, even in its battered state. The sparkle in his eyes showed he could sense that, but he did little more than plant a gentle kiss against her forehead.

“Let’s get you dressed and back home. Sleep now, and worry about all this another day.”

With ever gentle hands, Cordan pulled her slip over her head, and then took off his tunic and also pulled that over her skin. With the alcohol and the emotions from the night, her head reeled with his scent so close to her as he scooped her up. Cradling her against his bare skin, he sprinted off into the night, keeping to the shadows and from any watchful eyes.