Work Text:
Luckily, there were no signs of frostbite.
Elze’ith had long learned to be grateful for these small mercies. The lack of frostbite, the shallow but even breathing, the spare furs and blankets in his pack. Anything that made caring for people easier was something not to be taken for granted.
Especially given what the stranger was dealing with— he had long since stopped shivering, and he barely responded as Elze’ith maneuvered him into fresh clothes and got him settled next to the fire. He could be much worse off, but that didn’t mean he was safe yet.
And since he had long given way to the call of unconsciousness, it was on Elze’ith to help him regain himself. One arm around the stranger to keep him steady and warm, Elze’ith tended to the fire and the stew that was simmering on it. The warm and the nutrients would do him well.
Part of him wondered what this man was doing out here. How he got injured. If he had anyone who was worried about him. All questions for when he was feeling better.
Elze’ith was almost surprised when, as he lifted a small bowl of broth to the man’s lips, his eyes fluttered hazily open. Confusion was the main thing that clouded those dark eyes, but there were other emotions there, too— alarm, unease, wariness. He was afraid, and Elze’ith could not blame him.
“Do not worry,” Elze’ith murmured, voice pitched low and soothing to calm the startled man in front of him. “You are safe. I only wish to help you.”