Elros returned to the great hall with the chest and banners in tow, his mind turning over the strange events of the day. His body was weary from the swim, the weight of the chest resting heavily in his arms as he crossed the threshold. He placed the chest and the two banners on the long wooden table, the quiet creak of the floorboards echoing in the stillness of the hall.
He moved swiftly through the hall, heading toward the makeshift room where he had left The Girl bound.
When he entered, he was met with the sound of frantic movement. The girl had managed to shift on the bed and was now struggling against the bonds, her body twisting as she pulled at the ropes. Her breathing was sharp, her eyes wide with panic.
For a moment, Elros hesitated, watching her fight against the restraints. There was something raw in her expression—fear, anger, desperation. She was no longer unconscious, but it was clear that she saw him as a threat. Her eyes darted to him as she screamed, the words unintelligible to him but filled with emotion.
He took a step forward, his voice calm but firm. "I am not your enemy," he said, his voice low. "I killed the ones who hurt you."
She only screamed louder, thrashing against the ropes. The words that spilled from her lips sounded foreign and harsh. Elros could make out only fragments—"daughter," "King Stark," and "army."
It made little sense, but it was enough to tell him there was a connection to someone important. She wasn't just a helpless prisoner; she was someone with ties to something larger.
He turned away, leaving the room and going to the table where he had laid the banners and chest. The girl's desperate cries echoed behind him as he picked up the two banners, considering his next move carefully.
He returned to her, standing at the doorway for a moment as he watched her struggle. Without speaking, he unfurled the first banner—the one with the green lobster and black harpoon. He extended it toward her.
The moment she saw it, she recoiled in disgust, spitting on the fabric with a look of pure contempt. Elros frowned, uncertain, but he did not push it.
Instead, he took the second banner, the one with the grey wolf, and presented it to her. She stopped thrashing and fell silent, her gaze fixed on the banner as though she recognized it. Her eyes softened, and for the first time, Elros saw a flicker of something other than fear.
Slowly, she reached out, touching the banner with trembling fingers, and then looked up at him. Her mouth formed words he couldn't understand, but her voice had lost the edge of panic.
Elros's instincts told him that this banner was important—perhaps it was something tied to her past, to her identity. Without a word, he moved to untie her bonds.
Her wrists and ankles were raw from the struggle, but she didn't flinch as he worked carefully to loosen the knots. When she was free, she remained still for a moment, as if unsure of what to do next. Elros stepped back, watching her carefully.
She sat up slowly, her eyes never leaving him. They studied each other in silence for a long time, neither of them able to speak the other's language. A strange tension hung in the air, the gap between them not just one of words, but of experience and history.
Then, her eyes fell on the chest that Elros had brought from the longship. She pointed at it, her voice a soft, urgent sound that caught his attention. "Mine," she said, her eyes wide with joy.
Elros understood enough to know she was claiming it. Without hesitation, he took the chest and placed it in front of her. She reached for it eagerly, her hands shaking as she ran her fingers over the intricate carvings. The moment her hands touched it, she seemed to relax, as if the chest brought her some comfort or sense of security.
For hours, Elros remained with her, watching as she explored the chest, running her hands over its surface and occasionally murmuring in that unfamiliar language. He couldn't understand what she was saying, but he could sense the relief in her movements—the way she seemed to relax in the presence of the chest, the banners, and the things that might connect her to a past she had lost.
It was a long and silent exchange, both of them trying to navigate the gulf between them. In the end, Elros knew he couldn't force answers from her—not now, not without understanding more.
With a heavy heart, he left her to her thoughts, heading back to the corner of the hall where he had set up a simple bed for himself. The fire crackled low in the hearth as he lay down, his mind restless. There was still so much he didn't know. The banners, the chest, the girl's mysterious background—everything felt like a puzzle with pieces that didn't quite fit together.
But for the first time since his arrival on this island, Elros felt that something greater was at play. Something far beyond the solitude and silence he had grown used to.
As sleep overtook him, he held on to that feeling. Tomorrow, he would learn more. He had to.