36: What the Eyes Can't See (Part VI)
"Three things in human life are important: the first is to be kind; the second is to be kind; and the third is to be kind."
― Henry James
The light knock startled Krem from the uneasy slumber he had sunken into. He realized he'd only been asleep for a little while, still in his leg armor and damp shirt.
I don't want to move, he grimaced.
"Who is it?" he barked.
"It's Almira."
Of all the sodding possibilities, her timing couldn't have been more immaculately inopportune.
He winced in disbelief.
"What do you want?" he asked more curtly than intended.
"For you to open the door!" she stated indignantly after a short pause.
He cursed beneath his breath, heaving himself off the bed, haltingly moving towards the door. He flicked the latch up and turned around towards the bed again all in one fluid motion. He heard her slip into the room and shut the door gently behind her.
"Look, whatever it is, do you think it can wait? I am not in the best state right now—"
She extended her arms towards him: in one hand sat a small pot with a large lump of what looked like lard, and in another a roll of gauze.
"I can help!" she said enthusiastically.
Krem fell back onto the side of the bed, rubbing his face.
"Where did you get that?—Better: what is that?"
"My father's own recipe. People say it is the best."
He looked at the greasy, glistening ointment.
"Thank you. I appreciate it," he said more affably. "You can leave it on the chair near the door."
Almira's smile vanished.
"No," she shook her head. "You should put it on right away—it'll dull the pain, you'll see! Baba's recipe—"
"Almira," Krem said warningly, "thank you. I appreciate it. Now you can leave."
"I'll rub it on your back for you!" she insisted, shaking the roll of gauze at him.
Krem pressed his lips together and raised an eyebrow. Was it curiosity? Because that's how some women approached him—as an exciting novelty. Sometimes he didn't care—he was horny enough and at the end of the day, everyone parted ways having gotten what they wanted. Was it guilt? he wondered. He and the Chargers had brought down a whole tavern and she had sparked the events into motion. Maybe she felt bad for him and she was offering herself up in gratitude? Maybe it was the only currency she thought she had to offer? That scenario, given how she had recoiled at his touch the previous night, filled him with revulsion.
"Why are you doing this? You don't have to," he said sternly. "I'll be fine. I've been worse," he said meaningfully. "Much worse."
Almira appeared taken aback.
"I just wanted to thank you," she finally admitted. "I saw you were in pain and I thought—"
"You owe me nothing. I would have done the same for anyone," he tried to explain.
At the 'anyone' she seemed disconcerted, he saw.
Maybe not the most elegant choice of words, but I don't really care right now, he thought, clenching his jaw at the strong bolt of pain seizing his back.
"Please," she insisted.
"Almira…"
"You were so nice to me. People usually don't…It made me think and I was wondering if the two of us could try…" she began.
Krem frowned and began to speak up to stop her, but she spoke faster.
"…And be friends," she blurted out.
Friends? he thought incredulously, staring at her long red braided hair and her bright inquisitive eyes examining him.
That was…unexpected.
He laughed with a mix of relief and amusement. She smiled, unsure of what she was smiling about.
"Friends, eh?" Krem asked, pondering the word. She nodded her head enthusiastically.
"Ok, friend," he said pointedly. "If you insist in making yourself useful, then help me get this shirt off, and then smear some of that stuff on my back. But I warn you—it doesn't look pretty back there."
She nodded gravely.
"I once saw charred corpses along the road where a rift had been and I did not even flinch," she said bravely. "I can handle it."
He laughed heartily at that.
"Come on then, friend," he encouraged her, lifting his arms up so she could help him with the shirt.
"Almira!" her father waved, walking towards their stall.
She looked up lazily, her elbows splayed over the tray, as she rested her chin over her fists, a bored expression on her face.
He halted before her and placed his hands on his hips.
"We are dismantling the stall," he ordered loudly.
Even Belle turned to stare, surprised.
Almira could barely contain her shock.
"But-but…we are hardly sold out! What happened?" she cried. "Are we going back on the road already?"
Her father leaned over and dragged an armful of bottles and phials and sachets off the display tray. He walked to their cart and dumped everything unceremoniously in the back. She stumbled after him, worry surfacing in her eyes.
Something had happened to make him uproot them so suddenly. Something big. Possibly very bad.
"Baba," she whispered apprehensively, a familiar dread overcoming her at the thought of the open road awaiting them.
"No more!" he cried. "No more stall, no more herb picking! No more crawling through bug-infested swamps for tender buds and shoots!" he declared, his finger pointing mightily towards the sky. "It's over, venan! Our days of wandering are finally behind us!"
Something was unfurling before her eyes and she was not grasping it. Shouldn't he be livid? He did not seem upset. He seemed…delighted. Even…happy?
"What?" she muttered, incredulously.
"I have been offered a position with the Inquisition, and I am taking it!" he announced proudly.
Almira clasped her hands together, speechless.
"I couldn't believe it myself! Good fortune smiled upon me at last, when the Inquisition's Head Apothecary came to me when the infirmary ran out of Felandaris. He said he was using it to fight a patient's infection and then I told him to use Prophet's Laurel instead—and he said, 'But that's weaker,' and I said, 'Not if you use buds and seeds,' and I showed him—the same recipe my mother showed me, and her mother before that…And wouldn't you know, he came back this morning saying it worked better than anything he'd ever seen, and we got to talking—and," he stopped, out of breath. "I am now going to assist him compounding herbs at the Infirmary," he said proudly.
She couldn't believe it.
"We sleep in the tent tonight still, but tomorrow—or the day after tomorrow, at the latest, we move to our own quarters—"
"Our own quarters!" Almira relished the words they escaped her lips. A real roof. A proper bed. No more tent.
"You'll have to find work, but he told me the kitchen and the tavern are often hiring."
She began to cheer with joy, tears flooding her eyes. Her father chuckled, too, and they clasped each other, jumping up down the courtyard with glee, laughing loudly, shouting out praises to the Inquisition.
"Baba!" she said abruptly, after they had caused a small commotion with their rowdy celebration. "I need to go! I'll be back later on!"
"Where are you going?"
"I need to tell someone the good news!"
"Who?" he asked, puzzled.
"A friend," she said, slipping away.
Krem and Almira shared the flask of whiskey as they sat side by side on the parapet overlooking the main courtyard, their legs dangling freely over the low drop. The breeze was mild that afternoon and the sun was beginning to set, tinging the mountain peaks with warm oranges and blazing reds.
"I've never lived anywhere long enough to call home," she said, still buoyed by her excitement. "Or had a bed that wasn't a pallet—even when we lodged at inns, because we could never afford the decent ones, and I wouldn't be caught dead sleeping in the beds at one of those cheap ones-they're crawling with Maker-knows-what…Actually if I were dead, it wouldn't matter…"
Krem snorted lightly. She had been babbling madly since she'd burst into his room to share her news.
"Actually, we did live in a small village in the Bannorn, in Ferelden: Greenfells. We wintered there for a few years when I was younger—ever hear of it?" She didn't wait for his response. "But I hated it: the villagers treated us as if we carried the plague because we were elves. The local girls didn't like me because they thought I would steal their sweethearts, and the boys just wanted to bed me."
Krem cast her a sideways glance.
"Would you and did you?"
"Yes," she admitted, sheepishly. "I was bored."
He snickered, taking a swig from the flask.
"You and I have a lot in common, don't we?" she asked, scanning the mountain tops bathed in glorious light.
Krem turned to look at her curiously.
"People look at us as if we don't belong. And people judge us, and sometimes don't accept us because we are the way we are," she turned to face him. "And another thing: we've both lived on the road, never staying anywhere long enough to make or keep friends."
He nodded his head in agreement.
"We've led hard lives, often witnessing the worst in people, filled with peril," she concluded seriously.
"You are comparing the life of a Charger to that of an herb picker?" he teased gently, attempting to lighten the mood.
"No!" she quickly amended.
She stared straight ahead. "The life of an herb picker is more fraught with danger," she declared.
He almost choked on his whiskey.
"Some herbs only grow on cliffs, you know," she explained, clearly mocking him. "Some will only bloom if gobbed in bird shit on a craggy ravine. It takes a special kind of person to perform such a truly useful service," she told him with self-importance. "And what do you do? You only swing that big maul around— if you are lucky, you hit something."
"All right. Now you've done it!" he declared, feigning indignation.
She felt his strong hands seize her by the arms as he pretended to push her off the parapet. She screamed with laughter, clinging to him, a rush of fear and excitement washing over her, even as she knew, from his firm grip, that he would not let her go, would not let her fall.
He noticed, relieved, that she had not cringed at his touch this time.
Perhaps, he thought, they could be friends, after all.
A/N: There's more to these two. Much more to tell about their deepening connection... But I'm worried about staying too long on one story arc. So I leave it up to you, my lovely readers whose support has never been taken for granted: Go on with these two now...or focus on a different story and return to them later? Let me know what you'd like! And as always: thank you!