Fan Fiction / Record Of Lodoss War Fan Fiction ❯ The other side of the door ❯ The other side of the door ( One-Shot )
Disclaimer: I don't own RoLW, I don't own the characters nor the places, they are property of their righteous owner. I wrote this just for fun, not to earn money. So please, don't sue me.
The other side of the Door
King Ashram restlessly paced up and down the barely lit corridor. The whole appearance was one of uneasiness. His huge shadow wavered over the cold stonewalls, distorted by the flickering light of the torches. His face, despite his usual cold and emotionless mask clearly showed his alarm and worriment. Folding them in front of his chest then clasping them together behind his back, his arms were in constantly motion like his legs. For a moment he stopped in front of a door, straining his ears. Now everything was silent. With an angry and impatient grunt he took his pacing up again.
He had lost tracks about how often he had measured the corridors length. It must have been many times, because he took his wandering up around midday and now it was after sunset.
Again he stopped in front of the door. A deep sight escaped from his lips, but he didn't care if anyone would hear it. Should they hear it. Should they see him like this. He wouldn't care as long as….
His eyes looked compassion. If only he had known earlier. Now it was too late. She, the only one he truly trusted, the only one he loved, she had to suffer because of him. And he couldn't do anything to help her. On the contrary. The healers had shoved him out of the room like an unnecessary piece of furniture!
A painful outcry cut through the cold air like a sharp knife would cut an unprotected body leaving a heavily bleeding wound. Without noticing his right hand wandered to his heart, clenched into a fist. A second scream followed, louder, shriller and full of unbearable pain.
Ashram closed his eyes forcefully and turned away. He buried his face in his hands. That hadn't been his intention. No, he hadn't wanted her to be in such pain. If only he had known. But no one had told him, not even she, that it would end in a finish like this.
Again he took up his restless wandering. Servants rushed by his side and entered the room, carrying clean white fabric. When they left it was crumpled and full of bloodstains. One of the healers put his head through the door, yelling at them to bring bowls with hot and cold water. Then he became aware of Ashram who starred at him like a predator at his victim.
"Not now. You've got to wait."
Then the door was shut with a loud bang and Ashram could hear hasty steps from the inside. A woman's voice, week and breathless, was audible. Again hasty footsteps, the door opened and one of the assistants squeezed himself through the open door slit and started to run. The very healer had followed him and now stood, screaming on top of his voice, in the open door:
"Hurry up, how long does it take to get some herbs?"
A painful moan from the inside caught his attention and he closed the door immediately.
Ashram swallowed. What was going on inside this room? Why weren't the healers able to help her? She was in pain now for hours. This couldn't be normal.
The young assistant returned. He was carrying a small wooden box and a steaming kettle. Before he could enter Ashrams grip stopped him.
"Sir Ashram. My masters waiting for me."
"I know. Just tell me, what is going on in there. Why is she still in pain?"
His face had changed into his usual unreadable mask. The young boy frowned.
"You know what is going on even though it is the first time your involved personally."
Ashram felt the dangerous flames of anger building up inside him. He took a deep breath to calm down. It wouldn't help anyone, especially not her, if he hurt that impertinent boy.
"What herbs did you have to fetch?"
"They will help her, your majesty. Don't worry, she is a strong woman."
With these words the boy managed to break away from Ashrams grip and entered the room. The healers' angry voice blurred through the closed door and was followed by painful moans and tearful sobs. Again servants rushed through the corridor and entered the room. The cries and screams became louder and were only interrupted by heavy and fast breathing.
Ashram clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white and his palms were bleeding, injured by his fingernails. Then, out of a sudden, everything was quite. A deathly silence spread through the corridor. Nothing, not even a whisper could be heard from inside the room.
Ashram waited, his body frozen like a statue. His eyes starred at the closed door as if he could break it only by looking at it. After a while carefully footsteps neared and the door was opened slowly. The old healer emerged, went on the corridor and closed the door behind him attentive. First he tried to avoid Ashram's basilisk like stare. None of them spoke. Time seemed to stand still until the healer dared to look up.
His eyes and face were flickering with different emotions. Fear, uneasiness, pride, anger, it wasn't easy to judge what it was.
"Well?" Ashram's deep voice broke the silence.
"Well ….." The healer answered slowly.
"How is she?" Ashram's stare intensified.
"She is well, your majesty. No need to worry. She is well." The healer hurried to calm this sorrow.
"And?" Ashram folded his arms in front of his chest as if to keep his hands under control.
"And?" The healer asked back, looking kind of helpless.
Again silence spread and froze everything. The healer was searching for words to explain something, he obviously didn't wanted to explain.
"Well, your majesty, Pirotess is well. She is a strong woman. And you can be absolutely sure that there won't be any after-effects."
The healer spoke hastily as if to prevent Ashram from interrupting him and asking a special question he didn't wanted to answer. Then he took a deep breath and burst out.
"But for the future you should be more careful. She nearly died. That was definitely too much for her. She is an elf. Her body isn't build for ...."
Suddenly the door was wrenched open and interrupted the healers accusation.
In the open stood the very person Ashram had longed to see the whole day.
She looked exhausted, weak and pale. Hardly able to stand on her own legs she leaned against one of the doorposts. Her long silvery hair hung around her shoulders in unkempt snarls. Her face was pale, despite her usual bronze skin, that was so characteristic for her kind. Her eyes were bloodshot and bleary and there were dark half moons under them.
She took a deep breath.
"Your majesty, wouldn't you like to come in?" Her voice was worn like her body.
It took him just one big step to be at her side and gently lift her up. Slowly her arms circled around his neck and her head found a resting place on his shoulder.
Carrying her slender body Ashram entered the room.
Pirotess moved her head and brought her lips nearer to his ears.
"Over there by the window." She whispered.
As silently as possible Ashram went into the ordered direction. The servants hastily made way for him. Arriving Pirotess whispered again.
"Let me down."
Standing on her own feet she bent down and took two little blanket bundles that were lying in an basket and carefully hold them in her arms. Then she turned to Ashram. Pulling the blanket away she spoke:
"Your majesty, my I introduce your son and your daughter?"