Night Watch I: Eliza, Ward of Andrew

*Andrew’s POV*

I sat back down, this time by Eliza's left side, and handed her one of the cups of water. "Thank you." She took a sip.

I smiled. "You're welcome. Just your left side and arm, the few spots on your legs, and then I was going to splint your wing. The Healers will do a better job tomorrow, but I didn’t want to leave you completely untreated in the meantime." Eliza gave me a small nod. She took another sip from her cup, and then peered into it as she frowned, seeming to lapse into contemplation.

Assuming she was apprehensive about the pain of having her wing set, I decided to reassure her. "I have medicine for pain, for when we work on your wing-"

Eliza shook her head, "-That won't be necessary, you have done more than enough. I have a very high pain tolerance." As I gently worked embedded grit out of a cut in the middle of her forearm, my curiosity got the better of me.

"You do indeed, very high. You're also fairly tall." I looked up at her to gauge her reaction, and was so surprised at the venomous animosity in her gaze, I stopped working and dropped her arm.

"Go ahead, pretty, little man. Finish your thought," she spat. I paled. How had she known?

"I..." I hadn't meant any harm! Eliza just stared at me, rage growing the longer I delayed my confession. "You- you have such large breasts..." I turned red and concentrated on a fold in my kilt.

"What? Is that really what you were fucking thinking?" I looked up, confused. Eliza was also clearly confused, although now she had merriment in her eyes.

"Well. Um." I swallowed. "Yes, I'm sorry, I couldn't help but notice their prominence-"

I was cut off by Eliza's raucous laughter. I was relieved she wasn’t upset with me any longer, but still hopelessly lost.

After a moment she patted me on the arm. "I know what you're getting at, Andrew. Yes, I have a high pain tolerance, I'm a bit tall, and, according to you, my tits are big. What I've heard from almost everyone else, my entire life, and what I was expecting, is that I'm fat.” Understanding dawned and I said nothing. I remembered back to the moment I had first seen her, and how I had thought, indeed, that she was… dumpy. I felt a sharp pang of guilt.

"All of those things are common in the Dark Mountain Elves, as you clearly know. So I'm guessing you either have traveled or you read a lot." Eliza looked at me intently for a moment. I was afraid to say anything, afraid it would give away the involuntary reaction I had to her unclothed body. "I believe you would like to travel, but have never left this Village, other than possibly briefly to defend it. I think you like to read." I nodded, totally mortified.

Elves and Fae, in general, got along decently, they were very closely related, but there were exceptions to every rule. Dark Mountain Elves lived both atop and underneath the mountains, at higher levels than most dwarves. They spent most of their time fighting with dwarves and goblins, and were extremely war-like. Other Elves despised their kind and thought of them as barbarians. I had read that they would continue to fight on in battle after having an arm cut clean off, until they died of blood loss. That even their oldest grandmothers were taller than the tallest Fae, with the strength of a bull, despite looking unimpressive. One of the books I had read had a crude sketch with large breasts hand-drawn in, and very foul suggestions.

Eliza pressed her lips together, thinking. "My grandmother was a Dusk Fae Berserker soldier in an army that foolishly attacked the Dark Mountain Elves in retribution for a raid, a long time ago. She was taken prisoner and brought back to Sighfe Mountain.” That got my attention. Sighfe Mountain had erupted some time ago, maybe 400, 500 years? This must have happened well before I was born.

“She was kept alive because her family was well known. It's a long story, at this point lost to time, but apparently she and a prison guard, my grandfather, fell in love over the course of just over a year.

"Eventually my Grampy, a Dark Mountain Elf, arranged for her escape, and came with her. The only Fae tribe that would permit an Elf, especially one of the filthy Dark Mountain Elves, to live on its outskirts, and later on, to accept his children into their society, was Merry Willows."

“Eliza, that’s incredible!” She looked surprised at my reaction. “I’ve read that Dark Mountain Elves have legendary strength and pain tolerance, they are fabled warriors!” I was excited; I couldn’t help it. Eliza started laughing. “I knew they were supposed to be large in stature, but I didn’t know they were, um, quite so spectacularly well-endowed with mammary tissue…” Now Eliza was roaring with laughter. I hadn’t realized I was making breast-shapes with my hands over my chest, as though to demonstrate how awe-inspiring her bust was. Oops.

“Stop! Stop! Fuck! I’ll piss myself!” Tears leaked from her eyes. It made me smile to see her laughing so hard. Eventually she settled down. “Holy shit, Andrew. You do realize that most people react with bigoted hatred, right?” I frowned. That actually hadn’t occurred to me.

“When I was younger, so many other Fae tried to hurt or kill me, or other members of my family, all the way through Training.” She was suddenly a lot more somber. I was horrified.

“You’d think they would have remembered, after dealing with my Uncle Henry. He was my mother’s older brother. He had such a hard time; he ended up getting exiled when I was just a kid. If you think I’m tall, you should see my mother or my Uncle. And my Grampy was huge, with one horn almost as big as a wagon wheel; the other was broken off part-way…” Eliza trailed off. Was? Both Elves and Fae lived for long enough, I wouldn’t have thought he could have died of natural causes yet, unless he was quite old when he left with her grandmother… I decided to just continue listening and let Eliza share what she was comfortable with.

“Anyways, my point was that there’s apparently no collective memory. Henry left half a dozen Fae paralyzed before he was exiled, but children are stupid and petty and don’t know to learn from history. Nor do they learn very quickly...” Her voice grew dark. “They did, though, eventually.” She looked at the floor.

Had Eliza killed someone that had done something to her or her family because of her bloodline? I looked at her battered horns.

Notes

oh man. i am totally getting sick. off to bed with me. ugh. i feel like yuck.