The Broken Soldier, Part 2 - "Saved By A Faen"

As my eyes opened, I began to look around. I was lying on a cot, and my leg (or what was left of it) was wrapped in a blood stained bandage. In the cots next to me were injured soldiers being treated by healers. One of the healers came over to me. She was a taller woman with pale skin and brown hair. “What happened,” I asked the woman.
“A group of Míhrfaen soldiers were on a rescue mission to save prisoners of war. You are very lucky you did not bleed to death. We were able to burn the wound shut and stop the blood,” she told me.
“Please, I must meet the man who saved me,” I told her. “Are the soldiers still here?”
“Oh, yes, they are. I will go see if I can find him,” she said with a smile. She left the tent, and after a few moments, she came back in with a soldier, wearing leather armor, and his face covered by a hood and a cloth over his mouth. The only part of his face that was visible was his dark brown eyes. A quiver hung from his belt, and a bow was strapped to his back, along with a sword in its sheath.
“Are you the one who saved me from the depths of that dungeon,” I asked him. He nodded his head. “I owe you my life, and I am eternally grateful. Please, what is your name?” After I asked him, he took down his hood, revealing long, brown hair and ears that were very slightly pointed at the tips. Then, he uncovered his mouth, revealing a very feminine face. Then, I realized that it was not a man at all, but a woman.
“I am Tircínwen of Northwood,” she said.
“Your a-”
“Yes, I am, in fact, a woman,” she said. “Surprised, are you?”
“Why, yes, I am surprised. In Anúrendor, no women serve in our armies.”
“I am no soldier. I am a mercenary. I joined this war when Jeyawahle’s forces got to close for comfort to Greenmere’s borders,” she said. “After the war, I will go on with my mercenary work.”
“Well, I’m sure I won’t be doing anymore fighting with this.” I lifted the lower part of my leg that was left.
“What town are you from, and what is you name,” she asked.
“My apologies. I did not introduce myself,” I said to her. “I am Nӧrr of the Stormvale Clan. I hail from the town of Easthill in the plains of Anúrendor,” I told her. “There awaits a beautiful young woman whom I promised to marry as soon as I returned from the war with money.”
“What is her name,” she asked.
“Her name is Peppri,” I answered. “She has fair hair and blue eyes. She has a smile that could warm the cold winds of the north. And, not to mention her cooking. I long to go back to her homestead and taste the sweet bread she bakes, and drink a mug of ale mixed with wild raspberries.”
“I take it you love this woman dearly,” Tircínwen said. “I pray that you both shall enjoy the rest of your days together and until the hairs on your head have grayed. And may you have healthy children and grandchildren, you shall give you many descendants in ages to come.”
“And may all of your enemies’ arrows miss you, and let them swiftly be felled by your blades and bows,” I told her. “I hope our paths cross again.”
“Pray I visit you when the war is over, when you two are wedded. Farewell for now,” she said, and she left.

In the next few weeks, I was sent home with many other men who were too injured to continue fighting. I was given a wooden peg for a replacement foot. A few other men and I arrived at Easthill in our carriage, an entered town with our bags of belongings and our shields as tokens of honor. The other men were greeted by their families and wives. I had gotten no such greeting. I came to the doorstep of the house I had grown up in, and knocked of the door. Peppri’s father came out in shock.
“Nӧrr, boy, you're alive,” he exclaimed.
“I was sent home early,” I told him. “I was too injured to continue to fight in the war.” I showed him my peg leg.
“Oh my-”
“Where is Peppri?”
“She...” he paused. “She’s living with her husband in High Keep.” I couldn’t comprehend the words he was speaking to me. Married? But we promised each other we would be wed when I came back from the war?
“But she-”
“She thought you were dead, boy. A wealthy man came along and they fell in love.”
“But I sent letters to her! How could she think I was dead?!”
“She never got any letters,” he told me. How could that be, I thought.
“I shall ride to High Keep immediately,” I told him.
“Boy, don’t you dare-”
“I shall not harm her. I wish to speak with her,” I explained.
“It’s best not. You would only bring distress to her and anger to her husband! It would be best if you remained dead.” I didn’t listen to him. I got my horse from the stable that I had raise (whom I had named Elni). I put on her saddle, mounted her and rode off.

Leaving out all the details of resting and eating, I arrived at High Keep in around three days. After asking around, I came to the house she had supposedly began living in with her husband. It was a decent sized house, with two floors, and it’s exterior was well kempt. I knocked on the front door, and was greeted by a man wearing fine clothes. He had facial hair on his chin and upper lip, and his eyes were gray.
“Who are you,” he asked in a posh tone.
“Is Peppri here,” I asked.
“Oh my- Nrӧg, is that you,” a voice called out. Behind him stood Peppri, wearing a fine dress and jewelry with her hair neatly braided. She ran toward me and pushed the man out of the way, wrapping her arms around me. She wept into my shoulder.
“Peppri, who is this man? A brother you have not told me of, perhaps?”
“Nӧrr, father told me you were dead,” she whispered in my ear.
“I sent you letters, but you never got them,” I told her. “He told me you had married another man.” She released me from her embrace.
“Wait, are you Peppri’s previous lover? I will have you know-”.
“Oh, Nӧrr,” Peppri said. “Zîroth came along and began to fancy me, and so father had me married off to him.” I froze. I should have known she would never marry another man without reason. Her father had betrain me.
“I do not like this. Not one bit. You come to my house unexpectedly, ask to see my wife, and then perhaps plan to take her for yourself? Off with you! Or I shall have you arrested,” he said.
“Zîroth, please! It is not like that! He means you no disrespect!” She pleaded with him, but he would not listen to her. He shoved me out, and slammed the door in my face.