RUIN

I wake slowly, my head spinning so horribly that I hiss as I open my eyes, unable to focus on anything. I close my eyes again, getting a flash of bright morning light, but nothing else. I'm obviously in a bed and it's the most comfortable I've been in for a long time, soft and supportive. It smells of woodland and a sharp floral scent that somehow wraps around me and calms me.

"Ruin?"

Shatterjaw's concerned voice rouses me some more and I take a deep breath, trying to center myself. She… doesn't call me by my name. Not really.

What happened?

I open my eyes and the world finally stops spinning. Gingerly, I look around and it sinks in that not only am I in Tobiah's room, but I'm also in his bed. Shatterjaw sits next to me on a three-legged stool, her dark eyes wide with worry. She isn't very expressive, but I can tell she's very concerned. She's not in her armor anymore—just a white tunic and tan trousers. Her knee bounces anxiously as she reaches for a cup.

"Ruin? I need you to drink this," she says and when I struggle to sit up, she reaches around my shoulders and props my head up as I drink a honey sweet… tea?

I swallow it all and my mind is suddenly clear. Tobiah caught me, I think, just as I slipped into a vision. I don't feel weak anymore—just embarrassed, especially since I'm shirtless and now ugly scars are on display. I can't describe it, but I don't want him seeing me this way. Or… maybe he has already .

I shudder at the thought.

I glance at the desk and then look again. It's been turned into a potion lab, a magical blue fire boiling something steadily. Potions aren't my specialty and there isn't an alchemist with us so it can only be Tobiah. Curious.

"Your Grace? Can you sit up?"

I nod and she helps me, even though it's unnecessary. But my guards are always fussy after a vision and I don't blame them. I'm sure the visions will be the death of me someday.

I rub my temples.

"What happened? How long have I been out?"

My body is very stiff.

Shatterjaw puts down the cup and sits back.

"You had a vision. Tobiah caught you, fortunately, and you've been here since. It's… been three days."

I huff. At least it isn't the usual week.

"Let me guess—His Resplendence wants me back?" I ask wearily, bitter that freedom had tasted so sweet and now it will be snatched away.

Shatterjaw clears her throat.

"No."

That surprises me.

"No?"

"Lord Vestergaard forbade us from sending any messages."

I stare, strange fluttering in my stomach.

"He did what?"

Shatterjaw shrugs.

"He said he didn't want you to deal with more stress."

Is it really that obvious that I absolutely hate court?

"I see," I say, looking around the room again. "Where… is he?"

"I'm not sure," Shatterjaw says, sounding a bit upset. "He hasn't slept since you… collapsed and has been brewing potions to help. He left this morning to go to the nearby wood and retrieve some herb that he couldn't find from the vendors."

I'm very taken aback.

"But… why?" I ask, baffled. "I thought… I didn't expect him… he needs to sleep and I'm in his bed."

I throw back the covers, but Shatterjaw shakes her head and eases me back.

"No, my lord. You must rest. He's an elf. They don't sleep the same way as we do anyway… I think. I'm not sure. He doesn't seem too tired anyway… I'll get you food."

I want to object, but I'm honestly so worn out that I don't have the energy to fight. She leaves a moment later and I close my eyes.

Just for a minute.

When I wake again, the colors of the sunset stream through the windows and it smells like tea and food. My stomach growls and I sit up cautiously and then start when I realize I'm not alone.

Tobiah is seated at his desk, dressed in pale scouting leathers with his sleeves rolled up, showing off his corded forearms. He has an array of plants that he's heating and looks through a microscope, his sharp blue eyes more cutting than iron. His hair is pulled back into an obnoxiously beautiful braid and dirt smudges him adorably.

At least now I know why it smells like flowers.

"Where's…" Tobiah starts when I speak and turns around, eyes wide. I clear my throat.

"Shatterjaw?" I ask, cheeks heating under his intense gaze, and I don't know why.

"I sent her off to rest," he says, looking me over. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes?" I say hesitantly and he gets up and hands me a tray of hot food. It looks like fish and vegetables.

"How…?" I'm baffled and look at him, eyes wide. His mouth twitches.

"I kept it warm with magic," he assures with a wry smile. "I cannot predict your waking, but I can keep food warm. "

"Right," I say, feeling awkward as I take the tray. There's tea on it too and he suddenly helps prop me up with pillows. I'm grateful, but my feeling of awkwardness is growing with each passing minute. I'm supposed to be serving him. Not the other way around. He seems to help without any expectations and seems satisfied once I'm propped up.

"Comfortable?" He asks and I nod mutely. He smiles and I can tell he's tired—exhausted even. It's the way his skin wrinkles around his eyes.

"Good," he says and heads back towards the desk, sitting down. "Let me know if you need anything."

I eat in silence and even though I'm starving, I barely taste the soup and bread. I watch him as he works, his face concentrated and his fingers strong and slim as he adjusts ingredients or the fire boiling the tincture.

"Aren't you going to ask me?" I finally blurt, unable to help myself. He looks startled for a moment and turns back towards me.

"Ask you what?" He says, looking genuinely confused.

"I don't know," I say, suddenly feeling ridiculous. "About my visions, I suppose. Everyone always wants to know."

He snorts at that and crosses his arms.

"In my experience, if a Seer has something to say, they will say it whether you wish to hear it or not," he says with a shrug. "I am unconcerned."

This is new and I gape at him.

"You… have much experience with seers?"

He shoots me a look.

"I am old, Ruin. I have experience with many things."

"How old?" I cock my head. "You keep saying you're old, but you never say how old."

He looks out the window, considering and worrying his lip in an utterly kissable manner.

‘Kissable'? Fuck. I must really be sick.

"I prefer not to think on it," he says at last. "But if you must know, I am 947. "

Now I'm confused.

"Isn't that rather young for an elf?"

He laughs bitterly.

"Perhaps. But I have seen and endured many things that most people would not hear of throughout their lifetimes. Thus, I am old. Or…" He looks distant for a long moment, seeing something that isn't for anyone else. "… at least, I feel old as a result. The rest of my family has centuries on me."

I think about that and nod, contemplating my visions.

"I suppose that makes me old too," I say finally.

He shrugs and continues looking out the window. I put aside my tray.

"Tobiah?" I say softly and he turns back towards me, his expression carefully blank. "Thank you. Whatever you've made, I feel much better. Usually, I'm in bed for days, but…now I feel like I need a little more sleep and then I'll be fine."

I smile and he smiles back.

"You are welcome," he says.

"But you need sleep too," I say with a huff. "Shatterjaw says that you haven't been sleeping."

He snorts.

"Of course she did," he rubs his temples. "I will sleep. But understand that my people do not need as much sleep as you, uh…" He frowns.

"Fragile mortals do?" I finish for him, smirking. He laughs and shakes his head.

"Not how I would have put it, but yes," he says with a smile. "And you should sleep as well."

I scowl.

"I have been sleeping," I pout, even though I'm exhausted.

"Then you should sleep some more," he says. "After you drink this."

He pours me a thumb's worth of that pale green liquid he's been watching, and I eye it, no stranger to nasty potions.

"What is it?" I say and recoil .

"Just a little pick me up," Tobiah assures me. "You used a lot of magic. This will help you regenerate it."

I sniff it cautiously. It's not too bad—like lavender and peach.

"Wait," I blink at him. "There are potions like that?"

He shrugs.

"Where I come from, there are."

"Godsdamned elves," I murmur and down the potion. Tobiah helps move the pillows out of the way so I can lay down. Gently, he tucks me in and closes the window, his presence a balm to anything horrible that I might have seen in the past few days. I can't explain it, but somehow, he makes me feel safer than anyone has in a very long time

Maybe I'm not alone anymore.

I'm asleep moments later, my dreams tame and my heart content.