"Every bard loves an appreciative audience, after all," Ari pointed out. "You have always been that for me."
At Aspel's joke, she had to laugh. "I'm sure I'm quite appreciative of that fact, indeed. Though if I continue helping with your armor and your shoes and who knows what else, perhaps I will ask you to purchase one - for my comfort, of course." It took her a moment to respond to the next question - she hadn't really thought of it much, but it was quite a lengthy span of time. "It seems so. Time is a funny thing - it seems to fly by so quickly in pleasant company."
She took her mandolin up and sat on the edge of the bed, running her hand over the strings. She began to play, bringing her voice in on the second verse, feeling the power of the wordless melody wash through her. Three verses, then a modulation into an old Ordalian ballad - Aspel was injured enough that one application was hardly going to do her any good, but she had used the tactic of healing interspersed with soothing music to assist in relaxation and give the body time to readjust before being healed once again. From the ballad, back for three more verses, then another modulation into the relative minor and an instrumental lullaby, not in any way magical, simply something to do with her hands while she prepared for one last push. A song for her, then, to restore her lagging energy so that she could bring forth just a little more power, and finally three more verses which faded away on a single, sustained note.
She had joked about singing all night, but in truth, she had very likely sung for over half an hour. She felt the curious, scratchy-throated emptiness she often experienced after a particularly trying performance. She had to clear her throat before she could speak, turning only then to look at Aspel to see how much of an effect she had had. "Better?"