100-Word Challenge, Day 361


“No, that won’t be necessary,” I say. “I am glad she survived.”

Gloriana leads me back to the room where I had slept and offers the bed to me. “You may sit and talk, or you may sleep, whichever you prefer.” She leaves the room, and I remove the armor and helm. I set it in a tidy pile at the foot of the bed along with the sword. The goblin blood, that had stained it during the battle, fell away on the walk to the village, so the elf-crafted tools of war gleamed brightly in the firelight. Gloriana returns, and hangs a teapot from the stone hook above the fire. “It will not take long to steep, and do no not worry,” she says, “this is a much different brew from the last one.”

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