“What is it, my thane?” a gravelly voice greeted Elara as she opened the door. Argis the Bulwark, her housecarl, was always alert and ready to meet her at the door when she arrived.
He sniffed at the sight of the guards moving Onmund’s body to her bedroom at the back of the hall.
“Please fetch Bothela for me. I need her immediately. She needs to bring all of her cure poison potions,” Elara requested as she dropped a small sack of gold in Argis’s meaty palm.
“That old hag?” Argis questioned, bewildered.
“She is my friend, and you would do well to keep your opinions to yourself,” her eyes blazed as she stood squarely in front of the mammoth man. “I do not have time for your silly Nord superstitions,” she snapped.
Argis had never seen Elara like this. She was always so calm and reserved. He dashed out the door, prepared to carry the old woman on his shoulders if it would bring them back to Vlindrel Hall more quickly.
Elara dismissed the guards and carefully unwrapped the crusty makeshift bandage. She knew Onmund was still drawing breath, but it was the untreated poison that most worried her. So much had happened that she did not know how best to heal him. And then he pulled that stunt with the Centurion. She sighed. It was the bravest thing she had ever seen. She prayed that it would not cost him his life.
The leg was a mess, but at least all of the healing that had been done stopped the bleeding. Elara threw off her helmet and gauntlets and laid her hands directly on his leg. Onmund twitched at the touch, but was still unconscious, sweat beading up on his forehead. She heard the front door slam, and the creaky voice of Bothela berating Argis.
“You damned mammoth of a fool! It is simple to carry a sack of potions, but it takes a royal idiot to drop them and smash every bottle.” Bothela came to the doorway of the bedroom.
“I am so sorry dear,” she said sadly. “It will take a full day for another batch to set up fully.” Bothela glared at Argis, who slunk away to the dining room.
Elara was sick to her stomach. She held Onmund’s life in her hands. “Bothela, can you please bring me some hot water and clean bandages. You are welcome to use my alchemy station to start on another batch. I think I left it fully stocked.”
The old Breton nodded at the younger one, who began to reach deeply for the healing magicka she would need to save his leg and his body from the hideous Falmer poison polluting his blood. She closed her eyes in concentration, laying her hands again over the open wound. Elara felt herself become smaller and move into his calf, knitting together muscle and tissue and nerves. She also felt her mother’s presence, quietly guiding her hands and lending her support. Is this how she saved my father, piecing together the wounds from the bear’s jaws and claws? She could hear the irregular pulsing of blood through Onmund’s veins. She had to find that poison and take it out, or it would stop his heart.
Elara felt herself flowing with the blood, carried along like a rushing river. She removed the bits of black, like pieces of tree bark that she found in the bloodstream, drawing them to her with the healing magic of her hands. The flow stopped at a solid mass of black, shiny like chaurus chitin. All instinct, Elara wrapped her arms around the black mass, and it dissolved into her as she held it tighter. She knew she had removed the last of the poison and that Onmund was safe. She started to feel a stiffening inside of herself, as the poison was now working on her. She felt her body convulse violently, and suddenly she was by Onmund’s bedside again, Bothela shaking her.
“You did it girl, he is going to come through this.”
Elara moved to the head of the bed to wipe the sweat off Onmund’s brow. She saw the steady rise and fall of his chest. “Thank you Mama,” she said softly, her eyes closed.
Bothela handed a bottle to Elara. “Take this, dear. You need it to strengthen you for what you did.” Bothela looked at her queerly but Elara did not care. She downed the bottle and focused her attention back to her patient.
Bothela touched her softly on the arm again. “Argis woke up the whole city to find that bottle of cure poison.” She looked out into the kitchen to see Argis pacing, his head down.
Elara called the hulking man over and gave him a big hug. What is with me today, hugging mountains and Altmer?
“Anything for my thane.” He beamed happily, and then went back to the dining room to celebrate his good deed with some ale.
Elara gazed at Onmund, resting peacefully on the bed. Bothela backed quietly out the door and busied herself in the kitchen. The old alchemist shook her head, laughing quietly. She never thought she would live to see magic like that. Of course, she had heard rumors about it when she lived in High Rock, some years ago, about a priestess of Kynareth who could heal anything. Bothela’s eyes went back to the bedroom doorway. She watched Elara gently remove a boot and begin to wash. Power like that runs in families, she thought, as she resumed stirring her soup.
----------------------
Elara felt as if she had not slept for days, yet her body continued to operate. Like a Dwemer automaton. She shook the thought out of her head. She was pleased to see that the calf had mended completely. The real test would be when he walked on it. She healed all of the cuts and scrapes that she could find, resting her hand over his heart, delighting in the vibrations of the steady, strong beat. She could not imagine a better sound.
She looked at the scaled helmet still on his head. They certainly were a ragtag couple of mages, walking around Skyrim in mismatched armor. No wonder they never frightened anyone off, they looked pretty ridiculous. She leaned over to remove Onmund’s helmet, but hesitated. She had never seen him without a helmet or hood on. Was it right to remove it without his permission? Only draugrs slept in helmets, she shuddered. She slipped the helmet off with one hand, cradling his head with the other. She tucked a few loose locks behind his right ear, and then stopped, surprised at what she saw. She absentmindedly touched her own ear as she covered Onmund’s ear again. Mysteries are not only mine, she thought to herself, as she continued to finish her healing. She gently ran her fingers through the dark matted hair, making certain there were no bumps or small cuts on his scalp. Thankfully one piece of his armor fit well, she thought.
Elara pulled up a chair to the left side of the bed. She tucked the covers in around her patient, but was startled by a sudden movement of his left arm. She looked at Onmund, to see him watching her. He reached his left hand to her face, and cupped her cheek in it. They smiled at each other as Onmund closed his eyes and sunk back into a healing sleep.
Elara’s legs buckled underneath her, and she was fortunate to have the chair catch her fall. The tears began to flow freely as she brought his hand to her lips and kissed it. She needed to see that smile, the smile that brought the sun up and sparkled behind the stars at night. Now she could let herself rest, and she fell asleep, listening to the steady beat of the heart that she had saved.
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I think the whole situation is "getting to h... more