Chapter Text
It wasn’t surprising that she couldn’t remember anything that had happened the night before. From the way she felt she guessed it had been spent in a tavern. However, she was surprised to find that she couldn’t remember anything else, either.
Raising a hand to her forehead, she tried opening her eyes. A tall blur was pacing at her bedside. When it saw her move, it rushed to the doorway and spoke.
“She’s awake. Get the healer.”
The blur began to clear into a man. A man with crimson hair and… horns? He sat in a chair beside the bed and held her hand. “My love, how do you feel? When I find whoever did this…"
Moistening her lips, she tried to speak. “What happened?”
“You were shot with a poisoned crossbow bolt. I brought you to the druid camp.”
“Oh. Thank you. And… who are you?”
The question clearly startled him, but before he could compose himself to answer, the healer bustled into the room.
“Memory loss?” The redhead’s face was a picture of disbelief. “I thought that only happened in three-penny novels! What kind of poison could do that?”
“A rare one,” the healer replied simply, shrugging her shoulders.
“I’m a rarity, then,” said the elven patient, touching the bandage on her arm. “This must be the most interesting thing to happen to me in a while.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” the healer said, smiling warmly, “your adventures are widely known.”
“Except to me,” the patient said, raising her eyebrows. “Is my memory just gone?”
“I don’t think that’s likely. Your memories may return gradually, or all at once, but I can’t tell you how long it might take for that to happen.”
“Maybe never?”
“Your memories are still in there,” the healer said, kindly, “you’ll find them again.”
As soon as the healer had left the room, the elf swung her legs over the side of the bed and began pulling her boots on.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going wherever it is that I live. Or… where we live?” She looked at the man questioningly and he nodded. “Well then, take me home,” she said, standing.
“You were poisoned,” the man reminded her gently, concern in his strange blue eyes.
“But I feel fine now. Even my headache is going away. Constitution of a rothe beast.”
“And just as strong willed as ever.” The man smiled a little in spite of himself.
“Am I? Well, that’s good,” she said to herself, then looked up at him again. “Please,” she said gently, “take me home.”
“It’s dark outside, and whoever attacked you could still be waiting out there,” the man replied. “Besides, you should rest.”
“I already rested. How long was I out?”
“Sixteen hours,” the tiefling answered, quietly.
“Oh…” The patient had been bracing herself to hear ‘days’, maybe even ‘weeks’. “That’s not so bad.”
“Not so bad?” he repeated the words as though he couldn’t believe them. “Those hours were the longest of my life!”
The elf sat down on the bed, sorry to have been the cause of so much worry. He sighed and sat down beside her.
“Let’s compromise,” he said. “If we stay, just until tomorrow morning, I can use the time to answer any questions you have, beginning with the one you asked earlier. My name is Valen. Valen Shadowbreath.”
“And my name?” She felt ridiculous for having to ask.
“Lyla Lucerne.”
“And we-” she paused, unsure how to phrase the question, “we’re in love?”
Valen nodded. “Do you remember anything? Anything at all?”
“Nothing,” Lyla said, shaking her head, “but judging by what I thought when I woke up, I’m no stranger to hangovers.”
“Perhaps, but you’re no drunkard.”
“Okay, I don’t spend my days drinking, but what do I do with them?”
“You’re a ranger. We’ve been working in the woods you grew up in.”
Lyla thought for a moment, taking in all of the information she had. She’d covered the basics, but nothing was coming back to her.
“Could you tell me a story? One about yourself that you’ve told me before.”
“Let me see,” Valen searched his mind for a story that didn’t contain too much angst and bloodshed. There weren’t many, but he thought they’d both had enough of that sort of thing for one day. “I told you of the time…”
It wasn’t long before Valen fell asleep, sprawled awkwardly over the bed. He must have been awake and worrying the entire time she’d been sleeping, and Lyla felt a little ashamed that she hadn’t thought of that earlier. She folded a blanket over him, and then settled into the armchair to wait for morning.