The Kingdom of Culnámo

Nesme’s sleep was interrupted by the sound of whistling. Whistling, the crackle of a fire, and the smell of brown sugar and bacon. Pulling herself groggily from her sleep, Nesme found that she wasn’t sure she wanted to go face him. Last night had been awkward enough, and with Tresh’s cheerful attitude, she almost felt sick. It was as if he thought this was all a game of house, like she had tried to drag him and her brother into so many times when they were younger.

Pushing herself to her feet, she labored to put on her clothes before she quietly padded in towards the scent of the cooking food, which only served to make her feel even more ill. She cleared her throat, awkwardly, looking towards Tresh. “You don’t have to do this…”

Tresh turned around to face Nesme with a smile as soon as she was near. “Why not? I’m hungry. And it would be rude of me to eat without offering any to you.”

The man bustled about, waiting for the food to cool as he spoke. “But if you don’t want to eat, suit yourself. I can always save some for later. If you do, though, there’s plenty there for both of us.” He opened up a cabinet and produced two glasses, one of which he filled with liquid from a jug of cider.

Nesme sighed, moving to take a seat as she looked back over at him. “That wasn’t what I meant.” She murmured, resting her hand on her stomach. It all smelled so good, but at the same time, it made her sick to her stomach. Sickeningly sweet.

“Oh.”

Tresh paused, clearly thinking on what she meant by that statement before continuing. “… I know you need a place to stay, and… I want to help. You’re a friend. Your brother is a friend. This is the least I can do.”

He speaks no further, instead going back to bustling around with the food. The food which smelled so sickeningly sweet, as if it were some trap to catch some poor animal, luring it in before snapping it up. He moved, scooping half of the food onto one plate, half on the other. It was Man-food. Eggs, sausage, bacon, potatoes. She remembered trying some, once, when she was younger, but she couldn’t for the life of her recall how they had tasted. As Tresh took both plates and set them down, she wasn’t sure she wanted to recall their flavor either. Her gaze snapped away, not paying him much heed as he sat down at the table.

“It’s been a very long time, Tresh. I wasn’t even aware you and my brother even kept in contact after you left. Why now?”

The man was about to take a bite of his food, but instead, he sighed, looking back towards the female. “… You know how our people are. How they look to outsiders, or anyone that’s been in the world of outsiders. I was no better than those outsiders, and I know that even now, if I were to try to go back, I would be shunned. … So I’ve made a living for myself out here. But… your brother and I still wrote back and forth. And oftentimes, I would ride towards the city to meet up with him. We would meet in secret. That’s when he told me about you, and what’s been… bothering you.” He skirted the issue delicately. “I offered to help where I could. I… know it seems odd,” he said, finally taking a bite of egg. He looked up to Nesme briefly.

“I.. see. That’s definitely one good explanation for why he always went sneaking off. I thought he’d found some great love in his life and was sneaking off to see her. I didn’t know you were the girl he was sneaking off to see.” She replied, and for a moment, a bit of a smile crossed her features.

Tresh seemed overjoyed at the idea that Nesme had smiled, really, for the first time since she had gotten there. He offered a warm, joyful smile back towards her. “Yes. I suppose I was the girl. But, you know. Nothing silly. It was all platonic, I promise.” He chuckled softly as he continued to eat.

But the humor is quickly set aside.

“Do you think they’ll come after me?”

“… I don’t know. But if they do, I promise you that they’ll be hard pressed to find this place. If they find it, I’ll be here. And I’ll make sure your brother is around, too. We won’t let you be hurt by them,” he said with another smile in her direction.

Nesme cleared her throat, looking a little more distraught “I’m not worried about being hurt, Tresh. I’m worried about them taking me back. I’m worried about my child.” In spite of everything, the elf woman wasn’t entirely sure her brother had filled Tresh in on all of the details on why she had to run, and the sick feeling in her felt a little better when she threw this piece of information in front of him. His reaction was immediate, it was certainly news to him.

“… Child?” he asked, setting his fork down on the plate. “… I… had no idea.” He looked down. “… Your brother never told me, and you certainly don’t look pregnant. It must be early in the pregnancy then. But… child. Right…” He clearly didn’t know what to say, so Nesme skillfully picked up the pieces of the conversation.

“It is why I had to leave. Phariel would be able to bind me to him if he knew.. not to mention what he would possibly do to the child.. Rhaedry is the only other who knows, so I trust you to be silent about this affair.”

“I won’t tell a soul. Your secret is safe,” Tresh said. “But… there’s not much we can do to hide a pregnant belly, even if you start to wear bigger dresses. Should anyone other than your brother drop by, I mean.” He took a sip from his cider. “… But we’ll find a way. I just…” He looked up to Nesme for a moment, but didn’t finish his statement.

“No elves will be dropping by, Tresh. No one knows I’m here. No one will ever know I am here.”

Tresh seemed glad to hear her say that, but he seemed disturbed by the tenacity in Nesme’s voice is unsettling to him. “Then there is nothing to fear, no?” He asked, standing up to clear his plate. “If you’re so certain, why do you doubt? Or am I misunderstanding?”

“I need you to promise to hide me. No one can know I’m here. For who knows how long. Long enough that people forget about me, at least.”

“I can promise you that, Nesme. No one will find you here. Elves won’t come anywhere close to men. This home is just on the outskirts of the world of men.” He smiled once more, that sickeningly sweet one that reminded her of the scent of the food, and proceeded to move towards her. “Besides. They’ll have to come through me before they get to you. I’m no slouch.”

Nesme raised an eyebrow, looking back to him. “Well, I guess I should be thanking you for that, then. Somehow that doesn’t reassure me, though.” She joked.

Tresh chuckled a bit. “I am glad that you are starting to loosen up a bit. I was starting to worry.”

Bridging the distance and coming to stand behind her, Tresh briefly rested his hand on Nesme’s shoulder. “Now, please. Eat. I promise you it’s good food.”

Before Nesme could react, he had moved and headed back to go start a fire for the both of them. She sat, staring off while her body felt numb, filled with that strange sick and sweet sensation that she wasn’t so sure about. All of this felt strange, suddenly being in the house of some young, unmarried elf, alone. He had spent so much time away that she had not seen him, and yet, even when she returned, he treated her as if they were more familiar than they were. Every time he tried to comfort her with a touch, it felt as if he had stabbed her.

Did he not realize what Phariel had done? Had Rhaedry not explained the situation entirely?

She looked longingly for the door. Surely there had to be something else. Even those in the world of men understood propriety between men and women. Surely even they were not so bad as to be so familiar with women they were supposed to be helping. It was then that her heart stopped. The men. They were not so much further away, and it was not as if she could not help on a small farm. With her hair long, perhaps they would not even have to know where it was she came from.

Abruptly, she got to her feet, ignoring the food in front of her. “I’m going for a walk!” She called. There was no harm in looking, she thought. The door was her salvation.

Nesme spent an inordinate amount of time staring at her reflection in the mirror. The cottage was close to the realm of Men, and while she was not used to their kind, she found herself afraid of being an elf in their presence. The few Men she had met were strange and marveled at her as if she were the strange one. The change was a necessary thing. It was a new day, the start of a new life, and so she wore her hair long in the chance that if any of the humans perchance happened by this direction, they would think her only some strange hermit woman off by herself. It was much better, she thought, to be a strange hermit, living alone, than an elf. It would be a reasonable disguise, at least, more so than her beaded garment and elaborate hair. This would simply have to do. Seeing that the light of day was already streaming in her window, Nesme set outside for her next task.

Her brother had left her no note, no sign from whichever servant he had managed to get to prepare this cottage for her, and so there were a few things she had realized that morning as she lay in bed. While clothes were not so much an issue, as she saw there were a few simple garments that seemed to have been left for her, it was the food that worried her. Upon further inspection of the room, while the necessities were there, she saw no food. She did recall, however, that the pond seemed to have some fish, and she recounted seeing a plot behind the cottage itself that would do for a garden. She had rummaged around, once she had gotten up that morning and found that indeed, that there were supplies suitable for preparing a garden, and a small number of seeds. At the very least, she could start her work by providing for her future.

It seemed a fairly simple task, at least, at first. Soften the ground, insert a bean, make sure you had a pole of some sort to allow the bean to grow up on, make sure the dirt was covering the bean and the pole to keep it upright, and move on to the next. The poles she had found near the house–again, whomever had set up the cottage had provided plenty of the necessities–and she promptly stuck it into the ground, forcing the dirt to hold it up. She only hoped she was alright at this, as she had seen no other food. As far as that day’s meal, she was not sure where exactly she’d find it, but she was hopeful. Right now, she had to think of her future, not her growling stomach. So she thought of the future, though it was shaded by her own thoughts of the past.

Soon enough she’d be finding the simple task of gardening a bit of a chore. She was sure that once her stomach had shown more of a swell that walking and working would be a lot harder. She had been careful back in Anwamanë not to show much of anything that had happened to her. Her sickness she kept to herself, practicing the art of false smiles when she felt ill and keeping to herself, which was easy enough to pull off since she had been keeping to herself for some time. Phariel hadn’t even noticed a change in her at all, which was a relief. It was Rhaedry who had spotted it first, and only he because he knew his sister far too well.

Thoughts of the past were sufficient enough to distract Nesme’s mind while she worked, and she hardly noticed when the soft footsteps approached behind her. As her hoe struck the dirt, the elf didn’t look up, face focused on the task at hand. It wasn’t until he spoke up that she actually noticed his presence.

“I had planned on supplying dinner for the both of us tonight, but I guess it’s never too early to plan ahead,” he said. The voice wasn’t young, by any means, but older than Nesme and strong, the voice of a man that seemed energetic and worldly. A voice that sounded familiar.

Startled from her task by both the voice and the familiarity of it, Nesme looked up, releasing the hoe and turning to face him. “Tresh..?” Her voice was soft, with a hint of a tremble as she studied the figure, taking in his garments and appearance. Rhaedry and Tresh had been friends for as long as she could remember, but the last time Nesme had seen her brother’s friend was many years ago when she was a girl, certainly much before she had become anything resembling a woman.

A slight chuckle escaped the man. “That’s right,” he said, bowing to Nesme. “It has been quite some time since the two of us have seen each other. The last time I saw you, you were barely becoming a teenager. And look at you now. Every bit of a woman. Your brother spoke highly of your beauty but now that I can see it for myself… words do it no justice. The sight speaks for itself.” He smiled brightly.

Nesme paled at the words, looking away as she gathered her thoughts. “Beauty is not always a good thing, Tresh. It can sometimes get one into all sorts of trouble,” she murmured.

Tresh reached out to touch Nesme’s face. “Maybe,” he said, trying to move her gaze back to him. “But you won’t find trouble as long as you stay here, in my home. This is as safe as it gets. Your brother is the only other person that knows of this cabin, far as I know.”

Nesme flinched at the touch, her gaze shifting once more. “I greatly appreciate your generosity.. but please.. don’t.”

Tresh immediately dropped his hand back to his side. “Forgive me. I only want to see you smile,” he said, tucking a hand into his pocket. “But please. Why don’t you come inside for a bit? If you are hungry, I can show you where the food is.” He gestured back towards the house with his free hand.

Nesme felt her freedom slipping away once more. First, it had been with Phariel, who treated her like his possession, as if she were some trophy he had won–and she had not been able to contest that. Now, even with her freedom to start over, she suddenly found herself in the midst of a companion. Her brother had trusted him enough to have him prepare her hiding place, but his sudden presence was stifling. Everything had changed and now, after having accepted her solitude, she found herself with someone else there. A someone else she was aquainted with, but wasn’t sure she really knew.

“I… think I would like to sit out here by the pond for a while, please.” Nesme murmured, her gaze shifting back towards the water.

Behind her, she heard Tresh’s feet, which were already moving towards the cabin, stop. “All right. You don’t have to ask. You’re free to do as you wish,” he offered. The footsteps resumed, though instead of retreating into the cabin like she had expected, they headed towards her.

Nesme swallowed, moving to sit before the pond. She didn’t speak, her mind vaguely aware of Tresh’s gaze upon her. Trying her hardest to clear her thoughts, she looked back over the pond, but could not block the sound of his breathing out of her head.

“Alone. Please? I’d like to be alone.”

“Okay,” he replied, though Nesme was sure she could hear a bit of confusion in his tone. “Well, whenever you are ready to come in, feel free. I’m going to start up a meal in the mean time. I promise, you’ll like the meal that I cook.” She was sure he was smiling, but she didn’t turn her head to look at him. It wasn’t until after she heard his feet retreat into the house that Nesme let out a breath.

She hadn’t even realized she had been holding it.

She had come far enough to slow down, at least for a while, and Nesme was sure she could see the hut in the distance. Her run slowed to a walk as she neared the water’s edge, and she could see the flicker of light in the distance. It wasn’t until now that the elf really was able to fully comprehend what she had done. She hadn’t stopped since she had fled, not for a moment to even take the opportunity to reflect on her actions that night.

Yet, with the hut and it’s warm glow of light looming in the distance, Nesme couldn’t help but be pulled back to the night’s events, and more-so, the fact that she could no longer go back to where she was.

She stopped near the water for a moment, not wanting to bridge the gap between her and the hut. Not yet. Instead, Nesme let out a slow breath, feeling the chilly air stinging at the gashes on her face. She had forgotten in her breakneck journey towards the hut, that they were even there, but the pause in her trek and the chill in the air had brought her back to the painful reality.

She had fled and could no longer go back.

Nesme wondered, for a moment, as the chill wind bit at her bare shoulders, if it had all been worth it. Everyone she knew, everyone she had grown up with and trusted, all of it was another world away. A world in which she could no longer return to. When the idea had come to her, when things had finally gotten so bad and she knew she had to leave, she had been terrified. Where would she go? Where could she hide?

When her brother mentioned he could prepare somewhere far away from her people on the edge of the realm of men, she hadn’t taken him seriously. How could an elf live so close to to the place where men dwelt? It was only then that she realized it would be the only place that she would be safe.

The chill wind bit further into her skin and she hugged her arms, warming them the best she could. She wasn’t ready to go in out of the cold yet. Crossing the doorway and going into that hut meant the end of everything she had known, and Nesme was still terrified. Still, she knew things were bad enough that she could not have stayed, and she wasn’t sure that there was any other way out. She was grateful to her brother for arranging for the hut but she knew it would put him in danger as well.

After all, if she managed to escape with only some cuts and bruises and she was a woman, she feared for what her brother would face. She was thankful he had managed to arrange it so that he didn’t know her exact location, but it meant that there would be no way any of them would ever know what had become of her.

She crept forward, pushing through the cold and the chill and moving to the window of the hut.

Nesme was certain that her brother must have known someone from the human realm who had come to prepare the hut for her, for she found the candles lit and a warm fire roaring inside. The hut itself even looked lived-in and almost comfortable. Even in spite of it all, she was grateful to be here. She was far away from anyone who wanted to hurt her, and far enough from the human settlements that she wasn’t sure they would bother her at all.

She could live out the rest of her days, quietly and peacefully in this little hut. The fire inside looked inviting, so the elf finally pulled herself away from the window and moved for the door, stepping inside. Things looked even better from the inside, and the fire was indeed warm and soothing.

For a moment, she stared into it, entranced by the flickering of the flames. They engulfed the logs, ripping them apart and consuming them, as if they were nothing of importance. It was her life that was being ripped away by that fire. Another breath, and she steeled herself. There was nothing that could be done. There was no way that she could let him find out about…

Shaking her head, Nesme looked away from the fire, her gaze sweeping about the room. It was humble enough, a shelf with books, a table, even a loom for weaving. Whomever her brother had gotten to prepare the small cottage for her, they had taken care to make it comfortable enough for a woman to live. Perhaps they even knew of her.

Shoving that thought away, Nesme bit on her lip, feeling the crust of dried blood on it. No. No one would know of her now. No one knew her and no one knew what had come before. Things had to be different now. She had to be strong. She was on her own.

It was these thoughts that finally caused her to break down. Huddling in the corner next to her bed, she soon found herself sobbing. No one would know of her now. No one would share her sorrows, and her little joys, as small as they might be. Everyone and everything was gone and she wasn’t even sure how to be strong.

Her only consolation was that he’d never know what happened to her, and even more so, he would never find out about the child she now carried within her.