‘Umph…!’

Elethien woke up to the muffled sound of her prisoner’s voice, returning from her long dream. It was only then did she realise she was tightly embracing him, the restrained man awkwardly forced into her bosom. Startled, she quickly released her embrace, shoving him a little backwards to create space between the two of them.

Her senses gradually returned. Deprived of food and water for what seemed to be an extended period of time, she finally felt a sense of hunger, her muscles suddenly weak and her throat stinging from the dehydration. Her body smelled extremely filthy as if she was rotting away, her soul housed in an undead body. Amovishel, although seemingly in a similar situation as her, didn’t even appear nearly as deprived. As she looked around, she realised she was indeed in her tent, but the camp was shockingly quiet save for the sounds of insects, birds and the occasional chatter from Forester noncombatants.

She touched her face. The crimson tattoos had returned, her right eye likely now altered as well. From a more careful examination, it seemed the tattoos had actually expanded and branched out. She felt immense amounts of energy coursing through her veins, her life force seemingly somehow refilled.

Fate was once again by her side.

‘You’re finally awake, huh,’ Amovishel said, his face a little uneasy from their brief contact earlier.

‘How long was I unconscious for?’ Elethien asked.

‘Roughly a day,’ he responded rather cooperatively. ‘You were lucky.’

‘Where is everyone?’

‘In battle. Following your conviction to take down the city of Maerila, they left early this morning.’

Those loyal idiots.

She sighed as she began slowly heading out, brushing her hair back slightly to not obstruct her vision. Despite her worry at their circumstances, with her regaining Fate’s favour, at least they’d be protected from serious harm. She hoped.

‘Where are you heading?’ Amovishel questioned. ‘Certainly you’re not heading off to the battlefield?’

‘Not today,’ she answered. ‘This dirty body needs a wash.’

Taking a short walk, she soon arrived at a small stream next to their camp. Situated near the forests, there were thankfully plenty of water sources nearby. Even if individually they couldn’t support her army, together they were more than enough. There were a few Forester children playing in the water with their mothers nearby, but besides them, the area was quite quiet.

Sometimes, she forgot her kingdom now had noncombatants, Forester villagers who were either too old, too young, or disabled in some way or another. People she and the other Foresters protected in her kingdom.

She stepped into the waters still wearing her clothes. It had been a while since her last bath of some sorts, probably her first time since the rebellion began. The refreshing water went up to her waist, cooling down her body and soaking her clothes. Slowly, she kneeled down, submerging herself up to her neck. A few particles and dirt floated downstream as she rubbed her skin, taking along with them much of the horrific smells.

She sank her head underwater for a few seconds before resurfacing, feeling the flow of the water past her ears. The comforts of cool water in the summer heat was, for the moment, beyond any luxury, offering her momentary peace and relief in the harsh world.

Finally taking off her garments, she rinsed and washed them in the water, scrubbing them to remove as much dirt as possible from the surface. Soon, the smells had worn off, the pieces of clothing returned to a more neutral state.

The sound of splashing water alerted her. As she looked around, she saw a small girl wading towards her, holding a basin with what seemed to be a small piece of cloth in her hands. The water went up to her shoulders as she walked, but her steps were steady, showing no signs of falling to the currents. Behind her was an older woman, likely her mother, nudging the child towards Elethien.

‘U-Uh…’ the girl stuttered. ‘Are you… Elethien?’

‘Yes.’

Taking a few more bold steps forward, the girl put her basin in front of her, shyly asking, ‘Can I wash you?’

‘She just wants to show appreciation for saving us that night in our village,’ the older woman explained.

That night… So they came from that small village where she killed the Trelvenese general.

‘Oh, um… yes,’ Elethien answered. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t wash herself, but if this was their way of thanking her, then there was no point in stopping them from doing so.

She turned around, brushing her hair forward and exposing her back to the girl. Throughout her career, although she had fairly little injuries from battle, her body had still sustained scars over time. Now, those faint scars were in full view before the smooth-skinned child, a reminder of their destinies before the rebellion. Destinies Elethien now fought against.

The girl gently rubbed the piece of cloth on Elethien’s skin. The movements were clumsy, but there was an earnestness in her, taking great care to remove every bit of dirt and grime off of Elethien. After the back, Elethien turned around again for the girl to wash her arms and chest. In a way, the girl reminded her of her sisters when they were children, washing and cleaning each other with their crude methods, the adults in the village often mixing up the three of them.

Looking at the girl, Elethien smiled.

Soon, the small act of service was finished. Elethien felt as if her body had been removed of a thick layer of stickiness, and as she stood up, the air felt ever more refreshing as it lightly massaged her skin. The girl was surprisingly more skilled than she imagined, definitely far better than her just washing herself.

‘Thank you,’ Elethien said. ‘What’s your name?’

The girl smiled in glee. ‘Adva.’

‘No, thank you,’ the woman replied. ‘This is just the least we can show our gratitude.’

Elethien stepped out of the waters and dressed herself once she had wrung out much of the water in her clothes. The world seemed far brighter after a good wash. As she looked at Adva’s basin, an idea gradually formed in her currently leisurely mind.

‘Adva,’ she called.

‘Yes?’

‘Do you want to help with washing another person?’

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Adva looked at the woman. Without much hesitation, the woman nodded in approval, sending her to Elethien’s side.

‘Please take care of her,’ the woman said.

‘She’ll return here before sunset,’ Elethien promised. ‘Oh, and Adva, fill up your basin as well.’

After exchanging their gratitude and goodbyes, Elethien led Adva back to her camp, the young girl insisting to carry the basin during the walk. Passing by more Foresters, they each waved or nodded at Elethien with gratitude displayed on their faces. Hearing the rumbling of Elethien’s stomach, a few even handed bits of their rations to her, one even feeding it directly into her mouth when her hands were full from other people’s gifts.

For the noncombatants, ones considered nearly useless by the world, Elethien was their saviour, their leader out of their lives of darkness. She didn’t know what they knew about her exploits, but it didn’t particularly matter.

They soon returned to Elethien’s tent. Amovishel had turned to a foetal position by this point, the hunger eating away at his body. The Foresters in Elethien’s absence basically ignored him, after all.

‘You look terrible,’ Elethien commented. By this time, she had already gotten used to the man being tied up in her tent.

‘And you look very clean,’ Amovishel responded weakly. ‘Who’s… that girl?’

‘The one who’s going to wash you.’ After putting the gifts to the side, she lifted Amovishel to a sitting position and finally untied him, revealing red marks around his wrists and ankles. She wasn’t worried about him escaping at this point. The man had obediently stayed where he was supposed to be for the past few weeks, never once causing trouble for her or the others. And even if he attempted to escape now, his body was too weak to even attempt to fight against her.

Motioning for Adva, the girl nervously came closer and put down the basin. Looking at Amovishel, she instinctively twitched and held her nose, but soon slowly approached him, braving the smells as best as she could.

‘Do I smell this bad?’ Amovishel chuckled.

‘Strip.’ Elethien untied his tunic and quickly undressed him, throwing his clothes in a pile. For minimal dignity’s sake, his undergarments were kept on, but otherwise he was practically naked, his filthy body exposed in front of his captor.

‘Even the finest dance girls didn’t make me undress this fast,’ he commented, his voice surprisingly lacking any hint of embarrassment.

‘Shut up.’

‘U-Uh, please relax,’ Adva said as she took the piece of wet cloth from the basin. Just like for Elethien, the girl meticulously cleaned Amovishel’s body, scrubbing every bit of dirt off until his skin was almost smooth to the touch.

‘You’re really good at this,’ Amovishel complimented while eating a piece of crackers that Elethien had handed to him. ‘And I say this as someone who once enjoyed the finest luxuries in the continent.’

‘Are you someone important?’ Adva asked.

‘Well, I guess I am.’

After Amovishel’s body was washed, Adva rinsed his clothes in the basin, and though it was far harder to clean them, she still managed to get most of the dirt off. After wringing the water off, she handed them to Elethien, who then tossed them at Amovishel’s head.

‘Thank you,’ Amovishel said towards Adva. ‘And your name is…?’

‘Adva.’

‘Alright,’ Elethien said. ‘Let’s return to the stream. I promised your mother you’ll go back before sunset.’

‘She’s not my mother,’ Adva corrected. ‘She’s my aunt.’

‘Then where’s your— nevermind.’ Amovishel attempted to ask, but stopped himself before he finished his sentence.

Adva’s mother had likely died on the battlefield. The common fate that Foresters shared as a race.

‘Let’s return to your aunt then,’ Elethien said. ‘This time I’ll carry the basin.’

The road back was still about the same. The people greeted her, some even offering to carry the basin which Elethien refused. There were friendly exchanges, but nothing too far to delay their progress. Compared to the warriors, the noncombatants were far more open and friendly, even if their lives had also been greatly affected by the decades of war.

It was strange that the army still hadn’t returned from the day’s battle yet.

Soon, they arrived at the stream, and sure enough, the woman was waiting. It was only then that Elethien noticed she was missing an ear and also had a scar that ran down her neck. The woman’s hair had concealed these features earlier. Seeing her aunt, Adva quickly rushed over and embraced her, the two laughing together as Elethien poured the water back into the stream.

‘How was the trip, Adva?’ the woman asked.

‘Good!’ Adva answered excitedly.

‘That’s good to hear.’

‘Uh, I have a question,’ Elethien said as she handed back the basin.

‘What is it?’ the woman responded.

‘How old is Adva?’

‘Eight years old,’ Adva replied cheekily.

Another idea had formed in Elethien’s mind.

‘I was wondering if she can come help out with some small chores every now and then,’ Elethien suggested. ‘I can allocate a larger portion of rations as payment.’

‘Adva, what do you think about this?’ the woman redirected the question. ‘Do you want to continue helping out Elethien later?’

‘Yes!’

‘Please take care of Adva a bit more in the future, then,’ the woman smiled. ‘And thank you again. I don’t know how I can repay you after all of this.’

‘Adva helping out is enough. A queen sometimes needs a helper as well,’ Elethien replied.

Fate had blessed her once again.

With that, the woman took Adva by the hand and departed. Elethien too began walking back to her tent. Unlike before, the camp was far louder now. There were shouts and groans everywhere, tents’ entrances flapping open.

The warriors had returned.

‘Elethien!’ Teion gasped as he saw her walking back, immediately attracting a large crowd to gather around.

‘Elethien! You’re awake!’

‘Are you alright?’

‘Did you eat?’

The Foresters’ concerns nearly overwhelmed her, and for a few moments, she just stood there in shock at the reception. Teion nearly leapt to embrace her, only for Elethien to push his sweaty body away. She had just washed herself, after all.

‘Elethien, you alright now?’ Teion asked.

‘I’m doing perfectly fine,’ she answered. ‘I was foolish before and exhausted myself far too quickly. IF not for Fate, I’d still be bedridden and unconscious.’

‘Your prayers reached it?’

‘No,’ Elethien said. ‘It talked to me. I have disobeyed it, but it has forgiven me so long as I continue to follow its path. To be free, we must obey it.’

‘What did it say about our battle?’

‘Teion.’ Elethien suddenly lowered her voice. ‘I want to talk to you in private.’

The two of them quickly went into Teion’s tent as it was situated close by. It was surprisingly neat, but there was still the smell of sweat permeating throughout the area.

‘How many casualties did we have today?’ she asked bluntly.

‘... Over a thousand, I think,’ Teion said. ‘We tried assaulting the hole in the wall and the gate again, but we couldn’t make any progress. When we retreated, the enemy still didn’t give chase. It’s like they’re just satisfied with defending the city itself.’

‘At this rate, we’ll soon be defeated from attrition.’

‘Should we continue our attack tomorrow, then?’

‘No,’ Elethien decided. ‘We will stay in our camps until Fate has revealed what we should do. The assault was clearly a mistake, a mistake over a thousand of us have already paid the price for. I couldn’t protect them, even though they look up to me as their saviour. I am the queen of the Foresters. I can’t sacrifice my people just like that.’

‘But won’t it be a waste of our efforts these past two days? What’s the point of all our sacrifices, then? I promised that Maerila will fall.’

‘I’ve decided,’ Elethien declared. ‘I can’t afford to send any more of my people to meaningless slaughter. This isn’t what Fate would want. This isn’t what I would want.’

‘Elethien—’

‘Believe in me, Teion. It’s better to take care of our people first before we send them out to battle. There will always be chances to kill our enemies when Fate allows us to. The Foresters, whether warriors or not, believe in me and our God who protects us. Will you?’

‘... Fine,’ Teion relented. ‘I believe in you.’

‘And Fate,’ Elethien reminded.

‘And Fate,’ he repeated. ‘You’re surprisingly peaceful today.’

‘Fate has shown me glimpses of love, after all.’

‘Love… Haven’t used that word in a while,’ Teion realised.

‘You’ll see soon.’