Nura sits by the fire with her knees curled to her chest, gazing into the orange hues with drooping eyes. But she can't sleep, not with such uncertainty breathing down her neck.
Rephas idles by the window, peering out to the soldiers that patrol the place. They've set up a camp, their fire chasing away some of the shadows. It doesn't chase away Nura's fear.
The Ice Elf left at some point between Nura stepping outside and the soldiers' arrival. Rephas doesn't explain to her who he is or make her understand the words he spoke. A part of her doesn't want him to. She just wants the night to be over. She just wants to go back to their simplicity.
The thud against the door makes jump. Her shoulders rise to her ears and she closes her eyes, listening as Rephas opens the door.
"Sorry to wake you," comes the gruff voice of the soldier.
"We weren't sleeping," Rephas replies.
Nura gets to her feet then, brushing her hands on her skirt. "Would you like some tea?" she asks, her voice husky with lack of sleep.
"I don't wish to impose, I was just checking to see if you're alright."
"We're fine," Rephas almost growls, but Nura is already moving to the stove to feed it wood and put the kettle on to boil.
"It's no problem. I could do with some tea anyway. Come in, have a seat."
The soldier thanks her and inches his way past Rephas who has his dark gaze settled on the man like a sack of stones.
Nura focuses on making the tea, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand.
"I'm Knight-Captain Tiran," he says as he warms his hands by the fire, his metal plates replaced with a leather doublet, the crest of Tiore with its wolf head and red and purple embroidered on his left breast.
"You served with my father?" Nura asks, remembering his mention of the man. Sometimes it still hurts to think about him, but nine years is enough time for a fiery pain to become a tugging ache.
"No, my father did. They died together in Bielfrit."
"I'm sorry," Nura murmurs, watching the water boil over the flame with pinched brows. So many of their soldiers were lost in that battle and for nothing. Some say the Dark King didn't even want the city, that the true prize was Kepfew. Which is why he didn't send the brunt of his forces to reinforce Bielfrit.
But Nura can't think about that, can't find someone to blame. She spent too long hating the Dark King for the war. There's enough hate in the world already.
"What brings you two so far from the Hold?" Tiran asks, glancing between Nura and Rephas who leans beside the door, his arms crossed over his chest. "These are dangerous lands."
"These dangerous lands are the only lands available to poor folk," Nura replies, a hint of bitterness in her tone.
"Poor?" Tiran questions, disbelief in his voice as he frowns at her.
Nura pours the tea with her lips pressed together, taking her time to come up with an answer. She doesn't need to, Rephas pushes away from the wall and takes a seat in one of the scrappy chairs by the fire.
"We were never paid for our service in the army," Rephas says.
Nura stayed in the Hold for six years after the war, doing what she could. She met Rephas in that time and they married. Many people were like them, waiting for money that wasn't coming from a bankrupt nation, leaving when they realised they weren't getting recognised for their service. And out in the dangerous lands they don't need to pay the taxes that keep rising.
Nura carries the mugs of tea over to them and hands one to the soldier who continues to frown at both of them. "They kept raising the taxes," Nura sighs as she stands beside the fire. "We didn't need to pay them when we were in service to the army. But as simple working folk we did. We make it just fine out here."
"Until a mob of villagers decided you're a Witch," Tiran says and Nura's shoulders stiffen at the reminder. "Why is that, might I ask?"
"I'm a healer," she retorts, sending him a scowl. "People fear what they don't understand. And the world of medicine isn't widely known."
The soldier nods, sets down his tea on the table beside Rephas' chair and straightens. "Well, thank you for the tea. I should be returning to my men. Goodnight."
Rephas and Nura watch him go and once the door is shut behind him, keeping out the cold night, Nura turns to Rephas.
"He didn't drink his tea," Nura comments as Rephas watches the door.
"He doesn't trust us. He thinks we're hiding something."
"He said he was in the area. But for what?"
Rephas leans back in the chair and doesn't answer, shadows within his gaze. Nura turns back to the flames and sips the tea, wondering why the night continues to drag on.
Nura raises her head when noises from outside reach her; raised voices and a scuffle. Rephas is on his feet and moving to the door before Nura gets a chance to turn around.
"I'm a friend!" Nura hears from outside and she recognises the voice.
"Aurmir. Rephas, it's Aurmir!" Nura rushes to put her tea down and rush to his side as he throws open the door to reveal two soldiers scuffling with the tall half-Elf. "Let him go!" She bounds down the stairs, ignoring the cold as she pushes the soldiers off Aurmir before they can hurt him. "Are you alright?"
Aurmir straightens his deep blue tunic with a huff of breath. "I'm fine."
"Come inside." Nura grabs his hand, eyeing the soldiers who watch before turning and going back into the safety of the cabin.
"I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner," Aurmir says as Nura shuts the door and ushers him over to the fire. "I had to lock up the shop properly. I was worried that they would do something and with the ingredients..."
"It's fine, Aurmir," Nura reassures him. "I understand."
"Calla is the one who brought the soldiers. She wishes to know that you're safe." Aurmir touches her cheek lightly as he searches for wounds. Nura grabs his hand again and squeezes it.
"I'm alright. Just frightened, is all."
"They're mad. They're all out of their minds doing what they did."
"They're scared, Aurmir. I can't blame them."
Aurmir purses his lips and shakes his head. "Well, I can. I'm leaving the village and you should too."
Nura glances at Rephas who stays by the shattered window. "I believe it has come to that."
"It'll take me a while to pack up my shop, so you'll need to go ahead but I plan to go to my cousin's home. He lives in the Elven lands, but you'll be welcome there."
Nura frowns at him. "The Elven lands? They won't welcome me there."
"As opposed to being welcome here?" Aurmir slides a lock of her hair behind her ear, his gaze softening. "It'll only be temporary, until you find another home. No one will think to look for you in the Elven lands."
"And what about Rephas? He certainly won't be welcome."
"It's a good idea, love," Rephas says, keeping his gaze on the world beyond the cabin. "These people won't stop until they've had their justice and we won't always have a regiment of soldiers protecting us."
"Then it's settled," Aurmir says, smiling a reassuring smile that doesn't work for Nura. "You'll leave in the morning for the Elven lands, get away from all of this."
Nura opens her mouth to try and argue but no words come forth. Her only leverage is finding a cure for the Shadow Elves' poison but that could take months. And it won't stop the killing or the hatred towards her now that the villagers think she's to blame for all this death. She has nothing to barter with, nothing that could convince Rephas that staying at the cabin would be their best option.
Nura pulls away from Aurmir, her heart aching. "I think I should get some rest." She turns away so they can't see the tears that well in her eyes. She walks through the cabin to the bedroom, her fingers trailing along the wood that her and Rephas built from nothing but the wild.
They had nothing when they came here, and they'll have nothing when they leave.
The sudden warmth at her back wakes her. Rephas' arm snakes around her waist, pulling Nura close so he can press his face to the back of her neck. She shifts, turning around in his arms to meet his gaze.
"Are you alright?" she whispers, her eyes still half-closed and dreary from a restless sleep.
"I didn't mean to wake you," he murmurs, brushing his lips against her forehead.
"It's okay, I sleep better with you by my side anyway." Nura settles her head against his chest so she can hear his heart, a reassuring thud that reminds her of everything she has.
She lets out a sigh and closes her eyes, feeling at home as he wraps his arms around her and holds her close. Nothing can touch her in that moment. She's not an Elf. She's not a Witch. She's not a healer. She's just Nura, a woman who loves her husband and doesn't need the world.
Rephas runs his fingers through her hair, the soft pleasure it gives her finally unravelling the tension in her shoulders.
"I love you, Nura," he murmurs into the dark, his voice rumbling in his chest. A smile curves her lips to hear it.
"I love you too."
His arms tighten around her like he's afraid she'll slip away. There have been many nights when Nura's done the same, when old fears rear their heads and try to remind her of how fragile happiness truly is.
Nura's hand tighten in the thick material of his tunic, the fabric too warm to wear to bed but the night is cold and Nura is too tired to bother thinking anymore.
Her sleep isn't restless anymore.