Chapter Seven: Sway
"And
you danced?" Garnet could hardly contain his laughter.
"So I'm told. I honestly don't remember much of that night," the young Cousland admitted sheepishly with a hearty laugh, the dim firelight reflecting off her pink cheeks. She had laughed much in the young man's company, much to her own surprise. Perhaps it was the few glasses of wine from the party speaking for her in this situation. Perhaps it was the glass she shared with Garnet not long ago. It was hard to say for sure.
After the dinner party and the sad farewells, she had slipped out of her room and descended to the empty barracks where she could only think of one person still residing there. They sat together for hours in the common room hunched around the fireplace, telling each other stories and holding hands innocently, a single blanket draped around their backs for extra warmth the the unusually cold hall. She sat cross-legged, her long white dress covering her legs. The dressy shoes Clara had picked out were unceremoniously discarded by the side of the fireplace.
Krista shifted her weight and scooted closer to the man beside her, trying not to give him any ideas but feeling drawn in by his form. There was also more blanket available around her shoulder to pull into her lap. He took notice of this and smirked.
"It's all right to rest your head on my shoulder, you know," he hinted smugly. "You've been staring like that for a while now. And you've really had a long day, haven't you?"
"I don't like your tone," she responded, narrowing her eyes with a smirk, forcing her slightly drunkenly red cheeks to rise. "You've been getting progressively worse as the night wears on. I'm afraid of the things you might suggest next."
He squeezed her hand and gazed upon her. The firelight flickered upon his eyes and shadows danced across his skin.
"I'm sorry," he retorted dryly. "I didn't know you were so opposed, my lady. I suppose I could just go if you-"
"No, no. Stay." She grabbed his arm lightly to pull him back as he began to get up. She knew as soon as he began laughing that he never intended to go anywhere and relaxed next to her once more. Krista Cousland froze with the realization that their bodies were touching slightly. The blush forming began to overtake her face, though he probably could not distinguish it from the heat residing there already.
"Just wanted to hear you say it," he told her softly, closer than before now. It was almost sweet.
"You and your wit," she said weakly as she eyed his arm tiredly and a bit enviously. "Your... witty... wit..."
"Go ahead. I won't tell," he whispered with a chuckle. "You sound a little flustered. One might confuse it for drunkenness."
She looked around furtively and found no one else to be present still. Slowly, she moved her head to rest on his shoulder, his soft cloak rubbing against her cheek. His arm moved across her back and hugged her shoulder as she scooted even closer to him, closing the slight distance between their bodies. It felt strangely wonderful and scary at the same time. Her heart pounded furiously as her cheeks flushed even more.
"It's crazy," she stated plainly, her mind wandering.
"What is?" he asked curiously. He paused for a moment as if to think, and added, "my lady."
"You're so full of yourself... and it
infuriates me," she said, trying to explain it, a few inebriated slurs making their way into her speech. "And at the same time you're not really serious about that cocky attitude. You're sweet underneath it all... and that makes me... not hate you."
"Part of my charm," he chuckled.
"You're good at hiding yourself," she commented, the wine hindering her ability to shut her mouth. She looked at him and shook her head, smacking her face on his arm in the process. "You hide behind that confidence but you don't fool me for a second."
"Oh, you are just far too clever for me," he said with a sarcastic grin, looking down at her. "How's your chin?"
"I don't feel a thing," she lied, rubbing the side of her face and her chin sorely.
She felt his eyes on her before she actually witnessed them staring. Her hand fell to her lap and the other clutched the blanket tightly, pulling it around her form in anxiety. She watched his eyes settle on her face and remain there in a dreamy state, so full of wonder and caring. He couldn't hide that but she wondered if her own impaired mind was seeing what did not actually exist. She thought that he might move in closer for a kiss and she braced herself to push him away, but he stayed where he was and just smiled.
"You're looking at me like you're ready to take off my head," he remarked through that lighthearted smile.
"I-I thought you were... Never mind," she mentioned quickly. "I just thought you were going to do something else."
He cocked his head to the side slightly. "You mean other than grin and look like an idiot? I... thought about it, believe me."
"What did you think about doing then?" she prodded with a smirk, her eyes half closed.
"Well, if you must know... I thought I might kiss you..." he said with a distant gaze.
"But you didn't," she stated defiantly, not sure if she was disappointed or relieved with his decision.
"You gave me this doe-eyed look, like you were scared out of your mind. You probably didn't even know you did it. It was enough for me to know you weren't ready for that," he said, turning his face towards the flames. It seemed he really cared about not hurting her, much to her surprise.
"And then you glared at me again," he added thoughtfully.
Krista opened her mouth to speak and found the only sound she could produce was a breathy, squeaky moan.
"Well said." He laughed.
Her face grew warmer than ever. She brought her knees together and raised them towards her chest, burying her face into them in embarrassment.
"It was cute," he comforted her, rubbing her shoulder and hugging her close to him.
"I suppose I've done worse," she muttered into the fabric of her dress.
He placed his fingers upon her head and trailed them through her hair. Her body seemed to instantly relax. He gently traced the line of her neck and spine with the tip of his finger. Her head curled back as she sat up to look at him, her eyes still half closed. Her mind was jumping from subject to subject and she couldn't focus on anything, that is, until she remembered why she had come to see Garnet. She didn't want to feel so depressed, so alone. So many people were leaving her behind in the castle with a handful of guards and the staff. There was no one to really spend quality time with, talk with, or make her laugh. She wanted someone familiar to be there with her, besides her faithful Nugget.
"Garnet?" she asked in a child-like tone.
"Yes? What's wrong? You... look so sad suddenly," he said, reaching a hand out to touch her face. His eyebrows raised with concern.
"Can you stay for a while? I mean, while Fergus and my father are away... My mother will be gone too... Not that I'm saying anything by telling you no one's going to be here. I don't mean in
that way, okay? Does that make sense? Well, there are going to be open guest rooms after tomorrow and I... I-i-it's just..." She sighed, reflecting sadly on her thoughts after babbling speedily through her speech. She sounded as though she might start to cry. "I'm going to have no one here with me. I don't want to be alone. But I can understand if you wouldn't want to. I know I can be insufferable at times and I just-"
"Shh," he cooed soothingly. "No need to put yourself down... Of course I'll stay. We can... talk more. I can make you laugh more, promise. I'll keep you from feeling lonely and no, I don't mean like...
that... unless you wanted to... but I'm sure there are plenty of other things to do besides, um...
that. Notthat I'm saying you
would... Heh. Let me start over before I make a
complete fool of myself here... I need you to smile above all else. Sad isn't a good look for you, Krista. It ruins the natural beauty of your face, you know, the pretty one behind that makeup."
Her eyes were glossy as he grazed her cheek with the back of his fingers. She felt so touched by his words and unworthy of his praise; it made her feel even more sad.
"Everyone's counting on me to be strong and here I am letting it all get to me. Drunker than ever. And thank you for your kind compliment, but I really am nothing special, believe me," she responded while looking at the floor.
Garnet sighed. "You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen and you deserve more than every clumsy compliment I manage to somehow muster the courage to say. I know that we haven't known each other for years or anything like that, but I feel like you're strong enough for everyone's sake. I can tell from what little time I've spent with you. You just need to relax,"
He ran his fingers through her hair and felt the woman begin to calm. She breathed deeply, everything rushing back to her brain at once.
"Everyone's depending on me to keep everything safe but what if something bad happens? What if I fail the promises I made to my father? I would be so ashamed. My father put me in charge here, Garnet. What if I can't handle it?" she asked in a somewhat higher pitched voice, sounding frantic. "He'll be out there fighting a war and I can't even defend his home while he's gone? That sounds so pathetic! And-"
"Stop it. The Krista Cousland I met today may have been nervous and awkward, but she was not self-pitying. You may not feel confident in your abilities all the time but just remember that other people do put their faith in you and believe in you. If you weren't truly capable of defending this castle and managing it while your father was away, he would not have put you in charge. And that's the truth. You know it," he reasoned, turning her head towards him gently.
"I... s'pose you're right. But... still, I-" she slurred drunkenly
"Shh," he said again, placing a finger to her lips to silence her before she set herself off again. All she could do was gape at him stupidly as she let the sensation of the contact sink into her mind, sending her nerves on a frenzied rampage.
"You're being ridiculous," he whispered quietly, removing his finger from her lips.
He tilted his head to the right and leaned his face in, close to hers slowly. Her heart thumped quickly and heavily against her chest. Her nerves were burning holes in her throat, stomach and lungs; it felt like she would go crazy if she did not close the distance between them right then and there. He did not move any closer, patiently watching in curiosity for her response to his action. His lips were parted and waiting mere inches away from her own as she stared at them intently, wondering what was holding her back from moving her head forward and tilting it in return to meet them. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Only one thing could make her feel better right now. She knew this from the hours she had spent with him today.
She pulled the blanket in her hand over his shoulder and hugged for dear life, bringing her head down onto his shoulder and gripping his back with her other arm. The surprise, force and abrupt nature of the embrace disrupted his balance and he toppled over onto his back. Krista's arm moved to the back of his head quickly to shield him from the blow of hitting the floor. She felt her knuckles scrape and throb against the stone, but she could care less. She rested her head in the crevasse of his arm and shoulder and kept an arm sprawled across his chest to grip his shoulder, the blanket covering their forms only partly. Her dress had shifted and exposed part of her calf. She shivered at the briskness of the air on her skin.
He lifted his head to look at her, his arms reaching out slowly to wrap around her back and embrace her. Her eyes were clenched tightly, as if paralyzed by fear. He pulled her in even closer to his form and held her tightly.
The world seemed to slow down for her at that moment. She listened intently and heard his heartbeat. Its pace was just as fast and intense as her own. She knew there was something about him that she enjoyed very much and it wasn't the sarcastic humor or the charming good looks. It was the safety he emitted from his body. With every slight touch he seemed to evoke a feeling of hope and calmness within her and she soon realized that when he embraced her, those feelings intensified a thousandfold. She felt no danger in his arms. He did not want to cause her ill will nor did he ever want to see her depressed or worked up.
Thoughts radiated through her brain, telling her that if she had just met him years ago, they might be married at this moment and she would have no troubles relaxing with him by her side. She knew that was the wine talking its way into her thoughts. This was a man she had only known for a short while. Surely this man's character could not be judged in a single day. But her heart had already made it's own decision to trust him, even when her mind waffled back and forth. It wasn't really open for debate anymore. She felt safe in his arms and she never wanted to let go. He indulged her whims by not letting up his hold on her, wrapping her up in a secure blanket of comfort.
"Thank you," she said quietly, nuzzling her face into his neck. "You can't imagine how much I appreciate you putting up with me. I just feel... I don't know...
secure with you here like this, like nothing can hurt me."
"Nothing can hurt you, my lady," he reiterated. "I promise I will protect you... from anything that you can't handle yourself first, of course."
She felt her cheeks grow warm and her heart swell with adoration for this man. She managed to pull herself away from him, his grip instantly loosening to let her go. The woman knew that her feelings were growing too fast for him. She had to leave now or she feared what the consequences would be. She rose to her feet lazily, patting the wrinkles out of her dress as the world spun dizzily around her. Garnet looked up at her and then shuffled to his feet quickly, leaving the blanket on the cold floor.
"I guess this is the part where you we say goodnight and you run upstairs pretending this never happened," he said a bit dejectedly.
"Of course not," she responded, sounding a bit hurt. In a singsong voice, she continued to elaborate, "I'll be thinking of the time I spent with you all night, probably all day tomorrow as well. I'm just... worried that my mother or one of the guards will catch me sneaking around at this hour. If I could stay longer, I would."
His posture straightened and his head perked up. "You would stay with me...? All
night? Krista Cousland, you saucy minx!"
A grin crept upon his face as her eyes went wide.
"I never said that," she replied quickly. "Perhaps I was wrong about you... I'm not so easy, Ser Garnet."
"It was a joke, my lady," he explained with a chuckle. "I would never suggest such a thing in such a delicate stage of our... relationship."
She let a nervous audible exhale escape her throat. "I knew that. Of course I did. No sex." She forced a laugh.
He took her delicate hand into his and kissed the top of it sweetly. He stood up tall and stared intently at her face with a sly smirk.
"You're drunk," he stated simply.
"Agreed" she mumbled, raising an arm with cheerfulness. "I can't believe you didn't know."
"And you think too much. Has anyone ever told you that?" he commented after some consideration.
Before she could stop herself, she moved closer to him and pressed her body against his, wrapping her arms around his back and gently squeezing. She rubbed her cheek against his neck and then against the side of his face. She slowly moved her lips to his cheek, making firm contact with the gritty, stubble-ridden skin there. He seemed shocked, for he did not budge from where he stood and did not raise his arms to her back in return.
"Thank you," she whispered into his ear quietly.
She stepped back from him to gaze into his eyes. Those eyes seemed far away, lost in a world of their own. A half-smile had formed on his lips and he reached a hand to touch his cheek gingerly where she had kissed him.
'He's in shock,' she thought to herself proudly.
'I left a man in utter shock with my kiss! Go me.' A grin spread across her face, her cheekbones rising. She gazed at him, unable to stop her teeth from showing. He finally snapped back to reality when she tapped his face lightly with her hand.
"Goodnight," she said, still beaming.
"Your smile is beautiful," he blurted dreamily. "I mean..." He cleared his throat. "Goodnight. I shall see you in the morning, my lady."
As she made her way back through the hallways, she felt like she was floating. She was sure to handle the stairs carefully, one at a time so she did not trip. A big grin was still plastered on her face as she reached the halls near the main antechamber. She looked up at the moon with disbelief in her actions and swooning in her heart. The moon was full, appearing enchanted and silvery in the clear night sky. It shimmered its lovely white rays down upon the castle. The stars were equally as gorgeous, each shining it its own specific way.
Everything seemed so perfect to her at this moment. She thought she may even begin singing or screaming, as she found it hard to contain her excitement and elation. She stared up at the sky, swinging her arms to and fro, feeling like dancing just a little bit. She began humming a song her mother used to sing to her when she was a child. As her steps became slower and more whimsical, she spun in a circle, feeling as light as a feather.
"And just what are you up to?" a familiar knightly voice called her out of her stupor.
"Ser Gilmore!" She gasped, feeling embarrassed for being so jubilant. She turned to face him.
"You were dancing again," he said happily, crossing his arms with a smile. He was standing by the main gate into the courtyard five meters away.
"I... was just... checking the...
spinniness of... my... shoes," she said slowly, trying to remain cool and collected.
He inspected her as he leaned against the nearby wall with his eyebrows raised.
"You're not wearing any shoes," he noted. "You always were a terrible liar."
"Right. Would you believe I got lost?" she asked sheepishly, shrugging her shoulders hopefully.
"Not even if you were
severely intoxicated," he stated smugly with a chuckle. "Where in the Maker's name have you been?"
"Aren't you supposed to be watching for the Arl's men?" she redirected him with a giggle. "Well? Get back to it!"
He furrowed his eyebrows at her, looking at her as if she might have grown an extra head.
"Are you... feeling all right? You seem... off," he said, trying to place his suspicion correctly.
"Off? There's nothing off about me, Rory," she said defiantly with a smile.
He faltered. "I—d-you—what? Rory? You haven't called me that in years!"
She smacked her forehead with her palm. "I'm sorry Ser Gilmore. I... need some rest I think."
She shook her head and stumbled towards the wall. He rushed to her side immediately, helping her regain her balance.
"My lady, how much wine did you have at the party? Did you overestimate your limits?"
"I had a bit... which was... okay, a lot for me... but it's okay because I am not nearly as bad as that woman, Landra... or even some of the men marching off to Ostagar right now," she slurred a little. "What? Everyone just kept passing glasses to me. What was I to do?"
"Respectfully decline," he stated with consternation, trying to stabilize her.
"I did! There were several cups I declined," she responded attentively, waving her hand dismissively.
"But you know how you get," he scolded playfully. "You really should be more careful."
"I'm not going to do anything crazy or get sick," she taunted. "I'm not going to puke on you, Rory."
"There, you did it again. Please, stop doing that," he insisted.
"What? Call you
Ro-ry?" she antagonized in a singsong voice, giggling slightly.
She recalled that the last time she had used that name. She had been allowed a single glass of wine and celebrated his eighteenth birthday with him and the men in the barracks. They were very close friends and rivals back then. Memories of that night came rushing into her mind, long suppressed but not quite forgotten. Her face twisted into a panicked expression. He held her arm steadily and shook her shoulder to snap her out of her daze, which only made her blush furiously when she realized how close he was.
"We should get you to your room. You'll feel better when you get some rest," he said.
"I-I can get there myself," she stuttered indignantly, tearing her arm away from him quickly.
"All right, all right... I was only trying to help," he muttered, starting to make his way back to his post.
"I know," she said in a rushed tone. "Ror— Ser Gilmore... I remembered something that happened a long time ago. I think it's the wine..."
"You... remembered something?" he asked curiously, turning back to face her. "Well what is it?"
"Do you remember your eighteenth birthday... at all?" she asked in a distressed voice.
"My what? Ah, I..." he gulped and then smiled politely. "That was the night you danced. Of course I remember that."
She sighed. "You and I had this...
thing when we were young. Harmless. Cute, even. At the time. And then... Ser Gilmore, did we-?"
"What? You mean, you and I...?" he asked, taken aback. "M-Maker n-no! You are the Teyrn's daughter. I would
never-" "I thought that too... But I keep having these sort of flashes and it's you. I-I remember
distinctly now," she stuttered.
"What... do you remember?" he asked, trying to keep himself composed, clearly struggling with the topic at hand.
She stared at him for a few moments, thinking deeply about her memories. Her mouth hung agape before she could form words.
"A lot," she stated, her stomach flipping. "There's your birthday. And now that we're speaking again I wanted to talk about when you saved me. You taught me my best defense after that moment. I wanted to thank you." She slurred.
His mask faltered for a moment and his eyes seemed to spark with understanding and sadness.
"I'm sorry. I had hoped you would have forgotten that forever," he said apologetically.
"Considering I'm drunk, I
might forget," she admitted tiredly with a tiny hiccup and a hopeful tone. "Maybe I can repress it?"
"I certainly hope so." He ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "It was a terrible thing that happened and-"
"You were there to comfort me," she interrupted, pointing a lazy finger at him. "I was able to defend myself after that because of you."
"It took you quite a while to perfect it, but you did. I'm glad I was able to help. I only wish I could have interjected sooner."
"I..." She gripped her head in agony, a headache forming and throbbing in her frontal lobe. "Part of me doesn't ever want to think of it. You came just in time. And then..." She took a dizzy step towards him.
His eyebrows were raised sadly and a frown formed upon his lips apologetically.
"I punched you," she blurted, taking another step towards him with a slur, "because you kissed me. It was very bad timing on your part. I mean, we had a...
fling... flirting and occasional winking... When you kissed me, I was
so mad. But on your
birthday... I went a little overboard making up for that punch, didn't I? We...
kissed a
lot." She giggled.
She could not silence herself fast enough. She wished that she could have stopped before she began, but she babbled on and on idiotically. Ser Gilmore's cheeks were as red as his hair. He rubbed his temples in frustration, her words bringing to mind images of the past.
"I did not know you could not recall our..." He cleared his throat with embarrassment. "...sessions that night. You really cannot handle alcohol, my lady, not even a little."
She wanted to protest but she knew that he was right. He sounded a bit crushed that she forgot such a night. She wold normally be embarrassed to bring it up in such a blunt way, but her mouth would not halt the words she was already vocalizing. She wanted to make it better; it was not his fault that she could not remember. She had to explain further.
"It wasn't just the alcohol. It was teenage hormones and tension, rivalry and... well, you protected me. It was everything, Rory. I know we both felt
something that night. I don't know what. But it was there. I remember being with you in a crowded room of guards having a good time and then... alone with you in your bedroom having a good time." She grinned foolishly at him. "I spent the night in your arms. We got very close that night but we never actually did... um, sex." She was too far gone to realize the nature of her conversation; the embarrassment escaped her. "I woke up in my own bed and I thought it was a dream, a
fantasy. But I think I always knew that you took me back there, always concerned with my
dignity..." She giggled a bit. "Oh, I can remember
everything right now. Even when we were close in your room and I
grabbed your—"
"My lady!" he nearly squeaked. "You are... in dire need of rest."
He fumbled with her arms, which were flailing about aimlessly.
"What?" she laughed deviously. "I just want to say it all in case I forget. It all came rushing back so fast when I called you Rory. Wasn't I the only one to call you that? No one else could—Whoa." She shook her head, knowing there was more to be said, but she could not bring all the words out fast enough. In truth she was already speaking too speedily. A spell of dizziness washed over her and she closed her eyes and held her head to try and slow everything down.
"There is a time and a place, my lady," he reminded her quickly, touching her arm gently. "Please, allow me to escort you to your room and we can talk about this tomorrow when you are... more aware of yourself."
"What if I forget?" she asked, worried, sounding somewhat like a child. She opened her eyes to look at him for an answer.
"It's for the best," he replied kindly, a regretful look upon his features. "Should you remember, I shall be here waiting to talk about everything,
one thing at a time."
"Promise?"
He sighed, looking at her incredulously. "If I promise, will you get to bed?"
She nodded vigorously as she swayed from side to side.
"I... promise," he said reluctantly.
"I think I can manage getting to my room, Ror-Rolan- Ser Gilmore. No need to take me," she tried to reason stubbornly.
"I... don't know if I should take that chance," he mumbled, watching her stagger towards the nearby wall. She wobbled a bit and he grabbed her shoulders firmly to steady her stance.
'Walking seemed so much easier when I was sitting down with Garnet,' she thought with annoyance, unaware that even her thoughts did not make sense.
'And before I remembered the good knight's birthday party. Good knight... Good night?' She laughed at the play on words as he began to lead her by the arm up the cobblestone pathways. He rolled his eyes, wondering what she could possibly be remembering now. How he could remain so professional when she was incredibly intoxicated and feeling immature, she could not begin to comprehend. He sounded so very stoic in this confrontation and she was surprised that he had come to terms with it, never once talking about it.
They neared the nearly empty dining hall. As they passed by the door, she heard her father arguing loudly with someone. She thought it was the Arl, but she was so tired that she could not tell. She was sure Ser Gilmore was half-dragging her up the path and out of earshot before she could catch a full sentence. She never heard her father argue in such a way and it caused the insides of her stomach to churn with anxiety. Ser Gilmore looked upon her with concern as she glanced around at her surroundings, truly unaware of where she was exactly.
"You're strong..." she grinned happily as she clung to his arm.
In reality, she was too close for his comfort this whole time, fastening their arms together from the moment he had gone to help her balance. She was too drunk for this and he knew that. Any other man might have taken advantage of her, but not Ser Gilmore. He had too much respect for her. From everything he had shared with her, he knew how he honestly felt inside and how fragile the Cousland girl really was. Sometimes it was hard to ignore his feelings, especially on days where she flaunted her beauty with dresses and makeup. But he wanted better for her, something extravagant, even if she didn't know it. He could never be the nobleman she needed. Never. But he could protect her from garbage –maybe forever with the way she handled men- and that was good enough.
"My lady..." he warned as her hands began to fidget with the scale-mail on his arms, gripping at his muscles loosely. The tinkering sound of her nails and fingers sliding across it made his skin burn beneath his armor.
"What, Rory?" she asked, her voice breathy and inviting. Her hands quickly explored his armor in search of a new subject to critique. He felt the heat rising through the mail at this point, the color in his cheeks an intense scarlet.
"Is this where it clicks and it all just comes off?" she asked impishly as she began to claw at the chinks of metal on his waist.
"Y-your h-hands... wander," he chided weakly, grabbing her wrists and freeing himself of her grip. She smiled deviously as she looked at his face. He was sure she was going to say some unfiltered inappropriate profanity until her eyes shut with tired vigor. He took hold of her shoulders and spun her towards her door desperately so that when she opened her eyes, she would see it instead of his blushing and flustered face.
She was about to argue a very valid point for messing with his head when suddenly she recognized the door to her bedroom. He released her shoulders as she looked at him bewilderedly.
"Now, please, get some rest and we'll both forget this. Will you be all right?" he asked, unsure of her mental state.
She sleepily nodded with her eyes closed, unaware of what she was agreeing to. He opened the door for her and her mabari hound growled from within.
"I must be getting back to my post, my lady. Goodnight," he said quickly, walking away at a brisk pace.
She waved him goodbye long after he had left and walked into her room, closing the door and locking it behind her. Nugget was already laying at the foot of the bed. He looked at her expectantly, as if to ask her where she had been. She began undressing sloppily, fumbling with the strings at her back and neck. She wiggled out of the dress slowly and incredibly ungracefully, letting it fall to the floor after getting it stuck on various limbs she forgot she had, for they were numb and tired. She cast aside her undergarments slowly, tripping over her panties and lurching forwards to her knees. They bled only slightly from minor scrapes, but she did not feel it. She pulled at her bra and lazily lifted it over her head instead of wasting time with clasps. It became stuck around her arm and neck as she got to her feet again.
After she had tamed the evil undergarments, she looked at the bath with debate in her eyes. She felt in need of a bath, but knew that she could not manage to keep her eyes open long enough to run the water. Nugget had put his head down and resumed slumber as she began stripping. He only became alert when she had fallen in her own clumsiness. The mabari watched her cautiously as she sat upon her long bed and settled in. He relaxed once more when she laid down and pulled the sheets over her body. Krista's eyes closed quickly, almost automatically, and her mind forgot all of her worries in an instant. She fell away from the world into a peaceful sleep.
