Feeling Again
Time passed in a blur for the injured elf. Locke spent the next four days swinging in and out of consciousness as his injuries healed. Moments spent awake were passed with brief conversation and food consumption while trying to fight off head aches and the nausea they produced. There was an extreme desire to eat - the knowledge that the sustenance would aid in physical healing - but every time food passed his lips he almost instantly felt sick to his stomach.
Adras had quickly discovered that it would be in his, and the elf’s, best interest if a pail was kept right at hand for such moments it was needed and Locke was grateful. He would be eternally indebted to this man who, despite all logical reasoning, had taken him in and cared for him in his time of need.
Locke had managed to force himself to keep some of the teas and broths ingested down and could feel himself strengthening with each passing day. It was a strength that he knew he would come to need in the weeks ahead.
Despite the time that was needed to eat, the majority of the elf’s time was spent in sleep. It was a sleep that didn’t feel right to Locke, almost unnatural. When he did wake he would not feel completely rested and shortly after waking the call to return to sleep would be too much for him to fight.
Images that he did not recognize and that did not make sense haunted him in his sleep. Those images intertwined with visions of reality caused extreme confusion and intense frustration. These two profound feelings, building daily, resulted in an increase in the fatigue that already plagued Locke.
Now, just re-awoken, the elf stared at the log ceiling overhead trying to piece together the most recent series of images. Unable to discern the pictures he saw and the faces presented to him, the elf found himself studying the timbers stretched over his bed. Splintered and cracked, Locke began to wonder how it was that this old cabin remained standing. Tattered curtains were draped over the open windows. Gaps could be seen between the wood that made up the walls. Yet, he felt at home here, as though he belonged.
That feeling of belonging sent Locke’s thoughts off on another path. Did he feel as though he belonged here because he was unaware of where he did belong? Or did he even belong anywhere at all? Perhaps he wandered about, living where his feet took him. Perhaps the images he saw in his head were of those people he had met along the way. Or perhaps they weren’t. Maybe they were brothers, sisters and friends.
A lump began to grow in the elf’s chest and his heart began to ache and pound. Locke willed himself to calm and fight the anxiety, fear and depression that the blank memories brought into being. He urged himself to change the direction that his thoughts went but there was no place else to aim them. There were no other thoughts that could come to him because he couldn’t remember.
Pressure in his chest began to intensify and a cold sweat broke out on his face and Locke found himself struggling to control his breathing. Nothing would come to him. Did he have a father? A mother? Black images floated in front of his eyes, fogging his mind. What was his name? Why was he lying, almost dead, in the forest? He lifted a shaky hand to his face and swept away the damp particles, his fingers brushing over the bandages still tightly wrapped around his head. What has happened to me?
"You are awake." Adras’ gentle voice snapped Locke back to the present and he was thankful for the intrusion. The old man stood in the doorway, visually examining his patient. His brow creased and he took a tentative step forward. "Are you well?" Adras almost shouted as he dropped the basket of corn he had been carrying onto the wooden table and rushed to Locke’s side.
Locke lowered his hand from his face and watched the old man hurry to the bed, pulling a chair behind him and stopping next to the bed, where he quickly sat and took the elf’s hand in his own. Locke was comforted by the presence of this newfound friend. He swallowed deeply and shifted his eyes from where they still lay on the ceiling and focused them on Adras.
"I am fine now, thank you." His voice still sounded weak and wrong to him and Locke hesitantly cleared his throat, knowing that the pressure it created would cause his head to reel.
"You seemed distraught when I entered and looked as though you were about to be ill." Adras leaned further forward on his seat and peered deep into Locke’s eyes as though searching for the source of the elf’s discomfort.
Locke shirked away somewhat from the intimate probe even though he knew, somehow, that the man could not see what was really bothering him. He suspected that Adras looked more for residual effects caused by the multiple head injuries than he did for a window into his soul.
"It was just waking up in an unfamiliar place, realizing that it is the only thing that is familiar to me." Locke paused shortly reassessing what he had just said. "Oh, forgive me, that made no sense at all."
"Ah, but it does." Adras tightened his comforting grip on the elf’s hand. "I can not begin to imagine the pain and confusion that you feel, but I will do my best to help you get through this." He smiled warmly at the elf and Locke couldn’t help but return the smile. It was the first genuine smile he had expressed in days.
"Thank you." He stopped, noting that the pressure in his chest had eased and his heart had calmed. "For everything."
It grew quiet between the two and the only sound that could be heard was that of the creaking logs which made up their shelter. Once again, Locke found himself staring up at the ceiling wondering how this structure remained standing.
"Come then Locke." Adras risked breaking the peacefulness. "What can I do to help you right now?"
Locke sat still, contemplating the offer that he had just received. There was so much that he wanted to do. He wanted to take off on a horse and go in search of his past. He wanted to find out how he had ended up in his current predicament to begin with. But, he couldn’t. He was stuck, using all of his energy just to recover.
"Perhaps you could help me to sit on the porch?" He asked more that requested. He didn’t really know that it would be a good idea for him to be moving about but he suspected that the fresh air would ease his internal pain.
A smile formed on the old man’s face and he rose from the chair he currently occupied. Turning toward the door, he grabbed the chair and dragged in out onto the porch, placing it just outside the door. He swiftly made his way back into the cottage and across the room to the chest at the foot of the elf’s bed. He removed two, rather thick, blankets and hurriedly placed them outside next to the chair.
With a large smile painted upon his face he made his way back to Locke’s side. "It would be my pleasure."
Unsteadily Adras helped Locke rise from the bed which had been his home for the past several days. The two falteringly made their way toward the door. Locke leaned heavily on the old man, his own muscles weakened and tired. His vision seemed to spin rapidly as dizziness assaulted him. He could feel Adras straining under the added weight that his old joints and aging muscles were unaccustomed to. Shuffling and staggering slowly across the worn wooden floor the dismal pair finally managed to reach the door and the chair which lye just beyond.
Slumping unceremoniously into the seat, Locke let out a strained sigh at the relief of finally reaching his destination. His head swam and he clamped his eyes shut to slow the lightheadedness that ensued. He listened as Adras layered blanket on top of blanket over his lithe, injured form, the old man breathing heavily as he did so. The warmth that the blankets provided eased Locke’s discomfort some, but it was the gentle breeze tickling the exposed portions of his face that caused the elf to really feel tranquil.
Scuffing of another chair being dragged and placed next to his own forced Locke to open his eyes and look to the old man he had come to trust so explicitly.
"Does this help?" Adras’ gentle voice whispered.
"Aye. The fresh air eases my spirit." Locke breathed. "Thank you my friend."
A smile could be seen peering out beneath Adras’ thick beard and his eyes dipped to the porch floor in humility. He loudly cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject. "Well, if you are just going to sit here I might as well put you to work, do you not agree?"
Before the elf could answer Adras was on his feet, sweeping back into the cottage. He was out of sight only briefly before he returned, a large basket of corn held just in front of him. "I assume that you know how to shuck corn." He handed the blond elf an ear of corn and watched inquisitively for any signs of distress.
Locke took the corn lightly in his right hand and turned it over. He did remember how to shuck corn, but he didn’t know how he remembered. Was it something he did with his mother? Was corn something that he liked? How could he remember something so trivial as shucking corn but he couldn’t remember his own name. His head began to ache more fiercely at the added stress and he lightly pressed the palm of his hand to his temple where the injury lay.
"Well come on now Locke, do not think that you can get out of a little work by feigning ill." The old man’s ever compassionate voice and smile pulled the elf out of his revery and Locke raised his head to Adras to see a quick subtle wink. He knew that the man was only attempting to distract him and he nodded ever so slightly to show his appreciation.
Gripping the husk he pulled back, feeling the often unnoticed muscles in his forearm working to remove the outer layer. Small bits of silk fell to the blanket, which was draped over his lap, and he was entranced by how well he could hear the soft threads as they made contact with the coverlet.
Several ears later he turned a curious eye to his shucking partner. "Adras?" Without lifting his head from his task the old man mumbled a response, letting the elf know that he had been heard. "Have you a thought as to how I came to be in the forest."
Adras didn’t stop in his work and Locke watched him and waited patiently for an answer to his question. If anyone could help him figure where he had come from, the old man was the only one.
"Nay son, I cannot begin to imagine what had befallen you to lead to such circumstance."
Locke sat, stunned at the response. Not so much surprised at the answer he had received, for he knew, deep down, that Adras couldn’t begin to understand what might have happened. It was the title that the old man had bestowed upon him that gave the elf pause. He had been called son by this man that he barely knew and yet the title was more comforting than anything else had been in the past days. That he felt safe in this man’s company was not new, that he felt love was.
The elf remained quiet for a time, fighting the lump and tightness that had began to grow in his chest again and the ache that had returned to his heart.
"Perhaps you could tell me what you know of elves. Perhaps that will help me to remember something of myself."
Adras leaned forward placing a soothing hand upon Locke’s knee. "I do not know much. You are the first elf that I have met. I have seen a few from a distance but never have I spoken with one until you stumbled into my life." He said this last part with a smile and a gentle squeeze of the elf’s knee then leaned back in his chair, resuming his previous task.
"I have heard that elves are magical. That they possess powers unknown to man."
Locke laughed lightly at this statement. "Well. I, for one, do not feel very magical at the moment."
Adras chortled at the remark and froze in his work once more. "Oh, but you are magical my friend." The old man kept his face hidden and he spoke in hushed tones. "You have made me feel life again and that is something that I have sorely missed."
Locke was speechless at what he had been told. He would be eternally grateful to Adras for the help he had given him and would never forget him, but he had not even begun to think that he may have had the effect on the old man that he had claimed.
"Forgive me Locke." Adras broke the silence. "I should not have spoken such things. Come, let us get this corn done and get you back inside before the chill becomes too much to bear."
Locke moved to protest but was quickly cut off. "Do not pretend that the cool air does not bother you. I have seen how you shrink down beneath the heavy blankets."
The elf gawked openly at the old man. Admiration flooded his soul and the ache in his heart all but vanished. The spirit and kindness of the man reminded him of someone. But for now, Locke was content to stay in his current friend and guardian’s company.