Chapter 57 - Toil and Trouble

There is nothing for me to do but wait, a state of idleness that feels unnervingly foreign after the frantic momentum of the past few days. 

In my new life I grow more and more uncomfortable by these moments of respite. They only highlight the periods of my old life where this quiet became my everyday norm.

Thankfully here I have people who still rely on me so I can always find some distraction to latch onto.

I guess it’s about time I go to wake up Orville from his afternoon nap.

I try to move to his bedside as stealthily as possible as I can see he is still asleep but the floorboards betray me. 

His eyes open immediately. 

They’re still clouded with pain, but the waxy texture has disappeared completely. A hint of colour has returned to his cheeks, and he seems to have come to terms with the pain of his injury.

“Afternoon,” he says with a husky voice. “Don’t lurk in the doorway. Come here.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up straight away like that.” He looked so peaceful.

“That’s alright it’s time for me to try to get up.” he replies, offering a tired smile and his hand to help him up and out of bed.

I stand like a statue as I try to anchor him out of bed. My arm is still in a state of disrepair so we struggle together between our lack of functioning limbs.

As he shifts his weight to stand, the blanket slips away. And for the first time, I see his injury in its full force. 

Where his right leg should be, only a carefully bandaged stump ending just above the knee remains. 

The sight is jarring and slightly nauseating.

It stands as a physical testament to the price he paid to protect his people, but he carries the absence with a stoic grace that makes it seem almost mundane. 

He doesn't try to hide it or act as if it isn't there. 

“There we go,” he grunts, leaning heavily on me for a moment before reaching for his crutch resting against the wall. “Just about getting the hang of this.” His cheerfulness feels strange as he was on death’s door just a week ago.

“You look a lot better today,” I say, encouraging his chipper mood. 

He lets out a soft chuckle, adjusting his balance on the crutch. “It feels like my fog has finally lifted.” He looks me up and down as he prepares to take a step. 

“Have you eaten? I haven’t seen you eat a proper meal in days.”

I feel a flush of guilt. He’s right. I’ve been running on fumes, too caught up in research and worry to think about something as simple as food. “I haven't, no.”

“Right then. That won’t do.” He gestures with his head toward the main room. 

“How about a late lunch then. My stomach is starting to complain. Riel brought along some stew when he came by yesterday so we can have that if you’d like?”

I can’t help but think of them at the mention of stew. Her stew was the first thing I ever ate in this world and he was her number one patron. “That sounds perfect.”

We pace ourselves slowly and deliberately as we move to the main room. Orville tries to direct me to my stool before sitting down himself, chivalry is not dead in this world afterall. But I refuse kindly as I take him to his chair first.

I find the stew covered in front of the hearth, I try my best to light it but I’ve never actually done it before.

“You need to put some logs in there first, then pull the chain on the side it’ll ignite on its own.” Orville identifies my struggle straight away without an utterance of a word.

As we wait for the stew to warm up I feel the need to bask myself in conversation with him. “So Riel came by yesterday? Is everything ok?”

I already somewhat know the answer but hearing other people’s drama has always been one of my favourite pastimes. 

Orville begins to talk, his voice blends with the crackle of the fire. “Well he was… agitated.”

“Oh yeah, Clovis and I did see him storming away from the barracks yesterday but I don’t think he saw us.” I hated to see Riel angry like that. 

Orville sighs. “He’s been trying to organize work crews to start rebuilding the homes we lost. But the kingdom guard is holding all the materials under a formal requisition, and the Knight Captain is denying any further requests. As they’re to be allocated for ‘strategic fortifications’ only.”

“So we’re just supposed to leave people homeless while he continues his assault on the forest?” I can barely hold my anger in at the injustice.

“That’s what Riel is thinking too.” Orville looks into the fire, his expression troubled. 

“He and Arrian had it out in the middle of the barracks. It didn’t end well. Riel has the will of the people, but Arrian has the authority of the crown. Ultimately the kingdom can do what they want.”

“That’s awful, I know first hand how difficult Arrian can be. He is constantly belittling me, but it’s his arrogance that frustrates me the most. It’s hard to be thankful to someone for their protection when they are oppressive in their own right.” I try to sympathise with Riel’s situation but Orville seems conflicted. 

“It’s easy to see the flaws in men like Arrian,” he says, carrying an immense weight. “It’s easy to stand on the sidelines and critique their arrogance. It’s a harder thing entirely to band together and support each other."

“I… I didn’t mean it like that, I just haven’t had the chance to help Riel out much.” I stammer, my defense feels shallow.

“Riel is fighting tooth and nail for my people, Shikara. And you saw him in distress and chose to walk the other way. I expect that from Clovis, but I thought you promised to support him on my behalf.” His pain is manifesting itself into a jab at my expense. 

“I’m trying to stop any more attacks! My research can protect everyone. I’m trying to honour Elara and Hakota…” I let my real motivation slip out in my brief lapse of restraint.

“Isn’t preventing more deaths the most important thing I can do right now?” My reasoning sounds grand and unimpeachable. 

But in the face of his steady demeanour, it feels like I’m building a fortress of logic to hide my own avoidance.

“What you are doing is noble, I can’t refute that.” he says with absolute sincerity. 

“You have a gift, Shikara, a way of seeing this world that none of us possess. It could very well be the key to our future survival. But Riel is fighting for our present. He’s trying to rebuild a home from ashes while being undermined at every turn. He’s grieving his sister, he’s carrying the weight of the survivors, and he’s doing it all alone.” 

Orville’s eyes hold mine. “He is overwhelmed and isolated. And I just thought… if anyone in this village could understand what that felt like, it would be you.”

His words strike a deep, resonant chord within me.

The isolation. The grief. The tranquil grief that no one else can fully see. I have spent my entire life feeling that way. And in my haste, I failed to recognize that same pain in someone else.

A rich, savoury aroma begins to fill the room as the stew finally starts to bubble over the flames. The sound pulls me out of my introspection to the man who continues to see  through all my layers.

“You’re right. I should have kept my promise.”

“You are keeping your promise, you just needed to be reminded. Riel is still here, still actively trying to make things better, you can still make it up to him.”

I stand up and carefully lift the pot from its hook, the iron handle hot even through the rag I’ve wrapped around my hand.

“After the expedition tomorrow.” I say, my voice steady with a newfound resolve. “No matter the result I’ll make sure I can help him with whatever he needs. Even if it means taking a stand.”

A slow, warm smile spreads across Orville’s face, reaching his eyes and making them shine. “I knew you would. Thank you.”