10. Draknir

As we make our way to her small hut on the outskirts of the village, I can"t help but take in my surroundings. The ramshackle buildings and dirt roads give off a sense of poverty and struggle. It"s a stark contrast to the grandeur and luxury I am used to.

How do these humans survive in such conditions?

It makes the orphanage I grew up in look like a palace. The air is thick with the smell of burning wood and the sounds of chickens clucking and children playing. My shoes sink into the soft earth beneath me as we navigate through the unpaved paths, lined with makeshift homes and dilapidated structures.

It"s clear that life here is not easy, but there is an unmistakable sense of community amongst these people. Despite their humble living conditions, they seem content and happy. It"s a humbling experience for someone like me, who thought I'd known what it was like to be poor.

"So tell me about yourself," I say, trying to learn more about my fake mate. I'll need a few details to make this look realistic.

"I take care of the dripir." She winces. "They're meaner than you'd think."

I smirk. The mousy little human is a complete mess. But I suppose it's kind of endearing…

"I see..." That certainly tracks. "Sounds like hard work."

"Only when they bite or try to escape. It would be easier if they weren't so hungry, but there's not always enough feed for them."

We pass by the central well where women wash laundry and chat. A few children run by, kicking a leather ball and laughing.

As we round the bend, a charming stone church comes into view, its steeple reaching towards the bright blue sky. The thatched roof cottages, with their colorful flower boxes and neatly trimmed gardens, seem to bow to its grandeur, despite the shabby exterior. An elderly priest stands on the steps, his broom still in hand as he watches us curiously.

Beside me, the young girl speaks animatedly about her grandmother and their daily routine in this small village.

I suppose it's not without its charm.

The deeper we traverse, the more I'm struck with resilience and determination in the face of poverty. People making the most of what they have, adoring their meager lodgings in flowers.

Perhaps I judged them too harshly.

The road stretches on ahead, leading us past endless fields of wheat. Each stalk glimmers like gold in the gentle breeze that rolls through the countryside.

Farmer"s carts, heavily loaded with hay, apples, and various livestock, trundle along at a leisurely pace.

In the distance, the mayor's lodging rises above the rest, the fields and industry all centrally located around him, the living conditions greatly improving.

In the shadow of his villa rests a shock of small cottages, nearest to the stables.

We make our way down the winding, narrow lane that leads to Kathleen"s cottage… I have walk-in closets that are bigger…

The walls of the cottage are made of dilapidated stone, with tall weeds surrounding the walls. In the distance, a goat bleats from a small pen, adding to the rustic…. charm of the place.

Everything here smells like animal shit.

"This is where my grandmother and I live," Kathleen says with a grimace, leading me towards the front door. I survey the homely little cottage in utter bewilderment. It"s a far cry from the grand estates and lavish manors of my elvish kin.

I"ve never had a true home or family after my mother died. The military barracks have served as my closest approximation of a home, but even they cannot compare to this small dwelling.

My eyes are drawn to the sight of Kathleen"s grandmother lying motionless under thin, threadbare blankets. The air is thick with the musty scent of decay and fear as another frail, elderly human scurries away at our approach. These creatures are so weak and timid, it"s a wonder they survive at all.

I can see the worry etched on Kathleen"s face as she tends to her grandmother. Despite the conditions, it is clear that she cares deeply for this woman. As her supposed "mate," I should make some effort to assist in any way I can.

Slowly, an elderly woman hobbles out from the single room. Her back is hunched and her steps are careful, as if any sudden movement could be too much for her frail bones. As soon as she spots me, her eyes widen in fear and her mouth forms into a small "o".

"A dark elf!" she gasps, clutching tightly at the edges of her shawl. "Oh heavens, what are you doing here?"

I scoff in annoyance at her reaction. "I"m here with Kathleen, of course."

The woman"s grip on her shawl tightens and she takes a few hesitant steps backwards. "I-I must be going," she stammers, avoiding eye contact with me. "Kathleen, be safe my dear." The smell of warm bread and herbs fills the air around us, masking her fear and unease.

Kathleen reaches out a hand pleadingly. "Wait Mathilde, please don"t go! He"s not going to hurt us."

But Mathilde is already scurrying out the front door as fast as her old legs can carry her.

"I"m sorry about that," Kathleen says sadly. "She"s just scared because she doesn"t understand."

I wave a dismissive hand. "It"s nothing new. You humans fear what you don"t understand."

Kathleen looks down, discomfort clear on her face. I probably should have held my tongue, but it"s the truth. These humans see me as a monster, nothing more.

I shrug. "It"s nothing new. I"m used to humans cowering in fear from me."

Kathleen frowns slightly.

"You humans are so weak and fragile," I continue callously. "I could crush one of you with a single hand if I wished. You fear us because you know we are superior in every way."

Kathleen"s eyes widen and she takes a small step back from me. I see a flash of apprehension cross her face.

She clears her throat, trying her best to look brave. "The healing potion, please?"

I stare down at her frail, elderly grandmother lying unconscious on the bed. With a sigh, I decide to be frank. "The healing potion will only do so much for her condition. It may mend her wounds, but her body clearly needs more than magic right now. She"s weak from injury and malnourishment. This old human needs proper care and nourishment or the potion will be useless."

Kathleen"s face falls at my words. I press on gently, "The potion cannot provide the ongoing care she needs. Her human body is different from an elf"s. She will require constant attention to regain her full strength."

Kathleen looks up at me, eyes glistening with tears. "What should I do then? I don"t know how to help her get better."

I go silent for a few moments, contemplating the situation. This young woman has shown resilience and devotion beyond what I expected from a human. Perhaps I can put our arrangement to some real use.

"As we are to be "mates," it is expected that I provide for your family," I finally say. "We can bring your grandmother to stay in my home. There she can have the care and medicine she needs to recover properly."

Kathleen"s eyes widen in surprise. "You would do that for us?"

I nod. "It will reinforce our ruse."

Kathleen"s eyes fill with gratitude. "That would be so kind of you. My grandmother and I would be forever thankful."

"It's not about being kind."

It's just practical. All for my benefit.

Kathleen smiles through her tears. My chest feels oddly warm at the sight.