was it a dream? Who: Elissa When: Middle of the night Where: The Inn Open To: Bastian Thread: Single plz
She woke in the middle of the night, her stomach rumbling slightly. It wasn't her habit to run down to the kitchen for a midnight snack, but it had happened more than once. So she felt no qualms as sat up and wrapped a loose blanket around her shoulders. She sat on the bed, legs dangling over the side for a moment as she turned back to look at Nathaniel, who was fast asleep on his belly, facing away from her. Even though the scars from whippings were long healed, he still preferred not to lay on his back. A reminder of his father, an ever present entity in their lives no matter how much they tried to deny it. Her husband's gentle breathing reassured her, and a smile tugged at her lips. He shifted, and turned his face to her; his arm stretched out, finding only empty space. His eyes opened, confused, and then saw her.
"Where are you off to, my love?" His voice was sleep ridden and curious. Music to her ears.
"The kitchen. Only be gone a moment," she replied, turning and leaning back to place a gentle kiss on his forehead, her hand pressing gently on his shoulder. As she leaned back, she saw that he had fallen asleep again with a smile on his own mouth. She stepped away from the bed quietly, reluctantly, leaving him to his rest.
The stairs were taken quickly, and the smile stayed on her face as she wandered through the cool, dark house. It was like being back home in Highever - they were living on lands near there, though still fairly south to either there or Vigil's Keep. Close enough to be in touch, but far away enough to have privacy.
One hand pressed against the grain of the wooden door to step into the kitchen, the other clutching the blanket close. She walked into the room - not hers, but a room, one she wasn't familiar with. There were no tables, and the huge fireplace that took up one wall was gone - there wasn't even a door for the pantry. She reached down automatically to fondle the hilt of her blade, only to find empty air at her hip. She remembered that she was at home, or at least she should have been, and Nathaniel hated it when she walked around the house with her blades.
What was going on?
She stepped back through the door, only to find herself behind a bar that was set at the back of what looked to be a large tavern. Tables everywhere, chairs, where it should have been her main hall.
Where was she?
She stepped back into the kitchen, looking for the nearest weapon - a knife, one of several jutting from a butcher's block, came to hand the easiest. It was seven inches long, and looked sharp; she tested it with a finger, slightly surprised with the ease that it drew blood. The blanket was dropped to the floor, forgotten. Dressed only in her nightgown, she didn't feel particularly safe, but it would have to make do for now.