The midnight hour was certainly a time that Imenry was more than used to facing with her eyes wide open. A life on the road, alone, with only snatches of sleep grabbed here and there, mere hours of restlessness tucked into a bedroll and bundled under furs in the winter. But now she was not on the road, rather in a large fortress, full of people, with guards, and tall stone walls and her very own, if small, room with it's narrow bed. Sleep did not come so easy to her in a new situation, and she was torn with what to do with herself. It was much too late to take a trip to the training grounds, and she was reluctant to get dressed again.
Instead she pulled herself out of bed, donning a shirt that was rather oversized on her, skimming across her thighs and draping off one shoulder. She let her hair hang loose, despite the heat that was thickening the air like soup. It was ridiculous for this hour, and she grumbled to herself as she debated whether or not to bring her sword along. Finally, she settled on tucking the massive weapon beneath the bed, and padded on bare feet out into the hallway.
It was quiet, and the stone walls flickered with light from the many lanterns lining them. She looked both ways, and satisfied that she was alone, made her way towards the larder. She remembered well enough where it had been the last time someone had pointed her in the right direction. Avoiding the large crowds at meal times and eating at odd hours had made it a place she'd visited previously more than once. She made her way through the halls, absorbing the silence of the massive building now that nearly everyone was sound asleep, tucked safely into their own beds. The respite from traveling had been gladly felt by all that she had met, but it seemed many others were also anxious to see battle; people like Ser Ordhan and herself.
She mused to herself often lately, thinking about what things would come to pass, and it was easy enough to slip back into that now as she walked through the quiet building. However, as she drew closer to the larder, she began to realize that she was not the only one who had been thinking about a midnight snack.
The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling out across the stone floor like a wavering line. It flickered over her eyes as she moved closer slowly. There was... singing coming from the other side, and she was at once hesitant to open the door and horribly curious about who was in there, belting out a tune without any regard for who might come along and find them. Her hand pressed against the door and it swung inwards, silent on the hinges, casting her fully in the light that filled the store room. She could do little other than stare in shock.
The woman there, sweaty and clothed in what looked like slightly more demure than normal smallclothes was... dancing with a broom, her feet moving lightly across the floor with every step, her hips swinging, her head thrown back as her mouth fell wide with the words to her song. She dipped her 'dance partner' with flourish and Imenry got a better glimpse of her face. Why surely, she had seen this woman around the Keep before but she didn't know her name. There was a little pile of white powder, flour perhaps, on the floor and bits of broken earthen ware which had been swept together, likely the chore that had spurned this little performance.
Imenry wasn't sure if she should announce her presence to the young woman, or let her finish her song and dance routine. Still, it seemed rude to not let her know she had an audience, so she settled for clearing her throat.