Page 39 of Her Orc Protector

"Hello to you too, Hobbie," I said softly.

The brownie made a dismissive noise and crossed the room in quick steps. She'd been with us that morning but had vanishedsoon after. Now, she studied Ellie with narrowed eyes, her tiny hands on her hips.

"Still bothering her, those teeth," she pronounced. "Getting through, though. Be glad when they're done with their business."

Ellie whimpered in response, as if agreeing with the assessment. I shifted her weight again, trying to find a position that might soothe her, but my arms trembled with the effort.

"Here now," Gruha said, setting her mug aside. "Let me take her a moment."

Before I could respond, she was reaching for Ellie, her gestures matter-of-fact but careful. I hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then, slowly, I transferred Ellie into her waiting arms.

The sudden absence of weight made my shoulders sag. I curled and uncurled my fingers, feeling the circulation return with prickles of sensation.

Gruha settled Ellie against her chest with practiced ease, one hand supporting her head, the other patting her back in a steady rhythm. "There we are," she murmured, her voice softer than I'd ever heard it. "Working hard tonight, aren't you, wee one?"

Ellie's fussing continued, but she didn't protest the change in arms. Her eyes, dark and solemn, gazed up at Gruha's face with what looked like serious consideration.

Dora brought the plate of sweet rolls closer, breaking one in half and offering it to me with an expectant look. "Eat," she said. "Sugar helps. Always does."

I took the roll, its surface still faintly warm, studded with currants and cinnamon.

Leilan had moved to the brazier, adding a few small pieces of wood to the embers. The flames licked upward, casting the room in a warmer glow. In the new light, I could see she wore a simple nightdress, her hair braided loosely for sleep.

"Why are you all here?" I asked finally, the question gentle but honest.

Dora looked at me like I'd asked why water was wet. "Because you are," she said simply.

"Because she is," Hobbie added, nodding toward Ellie, who had begun to squirm in Gruha's arms. "Because the night's long and rooms get too quiet, and sometimes a body just needs to be sure things are right."

Leilan didn't speak, but she moved to sit cross-legged on the floor near my feet, the blue wrap laid across her lap. She picked up the jar she'd brought and opened it, releasing the scent of lavender and something warmer—clove, perhaps.

"Balm," she said quietly, her voice musical even in that single word. "For sleep."

Gruha nodded approval. "Good thinking." She looked down at Ellie, whose fussing had shifted to a sort of conversational grumbling. "Would you like to try? She might take to you."

Leilan nodded, setting the open jar beside her and holding out her arms. The transfer happened smoothly—Gruha passed Ellie down, and Leilan received her with gentle hands.

I watched as my daughter was passed between these women, handled with such casual care. Something twisted in my chest—part wonder, part fear. I'd held her so tightly since we'd fled. Kept her so close. And now she was moving from arms to arms in a room full of women I barely knew.

Yet each touch was sure. Each pair of hands knew what they were doing. There was no fumbling, no uncertainty—just the quiet competence of those who'd done this before.

Leilan settled Ellie in her lap, cradling her head in the crook of her arm. With her free hand, she dipped a finger into the balm and gently rubbed it along Ellie's gumline. Ellie's eyes widened at the sensation, her fussing pausing momentarily.

"There," Leilan murmured, smiling down at her. "Better soon."

Dora had settled on the floor beside Leilan, legs tucked beneath her dressing gown. "I can take a turn bouncing her," she offered. "I've got nieces and nephews back home—seventeen at last count. Could bounce a baby in my sleep."

"Got the height for it, too," Hobbie remarked dryly. "Barely need to bend."

Dora wrinkled her nose at the brownie. "Says the one who could use the baby as a footstool."

Their bickering had a rhythm to it, comfortable and worn smooth with repetition. I found myself watching them all—Gruha now moving to put a kettle on the brazier, Leilan still cradling Ellie, Dora and Hobbie trading barbs with no real heat.

My room, which had felt so small just moments ago, now seemed to expand around their presence. Gruha had brought cups from somewhere—enough for all of us—and was measuring tea leaves from a pouch in her pocket. Dora had spread a small blanket on the floor and was arranging cushions around it. Leilan began to hum softly to Ellie, a melody I didn't recognize but that sounded like running water and rustling leaves.

It felt like they were settling in for the night.

"You don't have to stay," I said, the words coming out more uncertain than I'd intended. "I'm sure you all need rest."

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