Smiling at Rastellion, though still looking about the room a bit warily, Immalaine says "That weren't near as bad as I thought it'd be."
Rastellion looks around the tiny room. "It'd be less, place like this, in Bree... but times are hard for these folks. I don't begrudge 'em the extra silver. But six!" He chuckles. "Thought for a moment there we'd found the Bandit Inn!"
Immalaine turns and giggles as she looks around the tiny room. She heads over to the dresser and looks into the mirror as she brushes her hair back from her face with her hand, as Rastellion comes up behind her and looks over her shoulder. He lifts his hands and pulls her hair back over her shoulders for her, stroking her cheeks with his fingertips as he does.
A small sigh escapes Immalaine's lips, as she feels Rastellion's hands brush along her neck, pulling her long red hair away from her face to fall along her back to her waist. "Thank ye, Rastellion," she murmurs, "I'm gone have t' get my brush from th' bags if'n I want t' get it fixed up right."
"With luck, they'll have th' tub here soon. We can both get cleaned up, after th' road. Meantime," he reaches into his own saddlebags and produces two wrapped packages. "Last o'those meat pies my uncle gave us. Should do us for dinner."
Looking over to the meat pies, Immalaine eyes them eagerly. "Oh!" she says, looking up at Rastellion. "An' those are some good pies too!" Taking the one he hands her, she sits down and takes a bite out of it, closing her eyes in sheer delight as the flavors of the pie fill her mouth.
Rastellion grins at her expression. "High praise coming from you, that is. My uncle'd be right pleased." He looks up at a knock at the door; the inn's sole servant is dragging a large tub of water across the floor, the far edge set on a folded cloth to help it move. Rastellion nods and opens the door wider for him.
The tub of water takes up a good portion of the tiny room's remaining floor space. Rastellion hands the fellow a coin and shuts the door behind him. Then he pops the last bit of his pie into his mouth. "Water won't be gettin' any warmer," he says. "Want t' go first?"
Finishing her pie, Immalaine nods and stands up as she removes her boots. Her hand dips into the water, and she nods as it's quite warm to the touch. "I reckon I'd not mind gettin' cleaned up," she says, but she looks around the room for a moment. She opens her mouth to speak, but then shakes her head, turning her back to Rastellion as she removes her shirt so she can wash her arms.
Rastellion grins at her, sensing her hesitation. "Well, hurry up, then... save some warm for me." Then his expression softens and he turns his back, facing far side of the room, to give her privacy. "I'll not watch, if that'll help."
Seeing Rastellion turn, Immalaine quickly pulls off her clothes, stepping into the tub and lowering herself into the warm water. The bottom of her hair quickly gets wet, as she draws her knees up to sit all the way in. Grabbing a small cloth from the edge of the tub, she diligently begins scrubbing at her skin as the warmth of the bath seeps into her comfortingly. Having scrubbed her arms and legs clean, Immalaine uses the cloth to wet the top of her head, letting the water drip down her scalp and along the strands of hair as they take on an even deeper hue of red. She begins humming to herself as she works, enjoying the idea of being clean and momentarily forgetting that Rastellion was there. After a few minutes, she had washed from top to toe and she stands up, the water dripping down her body in rivulets as she looks for a towel.
Still holding the towel the servant brought with him, Rastellion holds it out behind him, still making a show of keeping his back to her. "Need this now?" he asks, keeping his voice innocent.
She reaches back to take the towel from Rastellion, opening her mouth to thank him, then pauses. "You're not peeking back there, are ye?" she says, as she gets a good grip on the towel.
Trying, and failing, to muffle his chuckle he quickly replies. "Me? Peeking? c... course not!" he stammers as she takes it from him.
Her body turning pink, she quickly steps from the tub and wraps the towel around her body. "Rastellion!" she exclaims, turning to look at him, a small pool of water forming at her feet. "I ... why would ye ..." she pauses, as her eyes land on the mirror and she closes her mouth, turning away to dry off.
Still grinning, he turns and sticks his hand into the tub. "Cooling off!" he exclaims. He quickly strips naked, tossing his clothes on top of the dresser, then steps into the tub, crouches down in his turn in the luke-warm water, and starts to scrub off the sweat and road-dust of the day.
Immalaine catches a glimpse of him as he strips out of his clothes, turning even more red as she turns to face the wall, staring out the window. A tangle of mixed feelings coursed through her and she found herself tempted to peek, but she shakes her head and waits as she listens to him bathe.
He finishes more quickly than Immalaine, as the water has cooled quickly. "If you're done with the towel," he says turning toward her and holding out his hand, "I could use it about now..."
Immalaine looks down, the towel still wrapped around her. Realizing that in order to give him the towel, she would have to remove it, she looks quickly for a solution. She quickly removes the towel, tossing it over his face, before jumping into the bed and under the covers.
Rastellion lets out a bark of surprise, then laughs, as Immalaine cleverly foils his trick. He struggles for a few seconds to extract his head from the damp towel that seems determined to cling to his face. By the time he pulls it off and looks over at her, Immalaine is already hidden under the covers. He grins at her.
Peeking her head out from under the covers, she sees him grin and pouts. "That were no fair Rastellion, you ... you ... ooH!" She covers her face with her hands, the absurdity of the situation dawning on her and she begins giggling.
His smile widens; he's pleased to see Immalaine finally light-hearted again. He steps out of the low tub, drying himself off as best he can with the damp towel, then tosses it aside and steps over to the bed. "Room in there for me?" he asks, softly.
Rolling over, she moves to the side of the bed, almost pressing herself against the wall as she looks quickly at him. "I reckon there might be a little." she said, nodding down to the mattress.
Rastellion pulls the blankets down and joins Immalaine in under the covers. He lays his head down on the thin pillow, facing her, and opens his arms. "C'mere," he says, gently - the earlier teasing now absent from his tone.
Her sigh barely audible, Immalaine hesitates a brief moment, before moving into Rastellion's arms. Looking up at him, she grins despite the myriad of emotions in her eyes. "Ye jus' want me fer a bedwarmer," she says, half teasingly.
Rastellion lifts a hand and runs it gently through her hair, shivering slightly at the tingling pleasure of her skin pressed against his. "Well, it is nice, feeling you here an' warm," he admits; "but, what I was going t' say, is that... that that's all ya need to do. I mean be here, be warm."
His eyes meet hers. "I know it was hard on ya, Immalaine, th' way we misunderstood each other, b'fore." He touches her cheek again, softly. "We don' need t' ... do anything you don' feel ready for."
"Rastellion ..." she said, quietly as she looked back over at him, "I ... it's not that I don't want't, I do ... I ..." she pauses, before whispering ... "I'm just scared."
"I know," he says ... then, much softer, "I am too." He takes a deep breath. "So, if you want, just curl up here with me t'night. Been a long few days, an' we both need sleep..."
The warmth of the bed and his body slowly relax her, and the weariness of the last few days settles over her. "I ... am very tired. Imagine ..." she yawns, resting her head against his shoulder, "Ye are too." She closes her eyes briefly.
Rastellion thinks on how Immalaine traveled so far - on foot - and all because of him. "Mhmm," he agrees - wide awake - "very tired." He nudges her gently, urging her to turn over and spoon up against him.
Immalaine shifts in the bed, turning over to lay on her side as she makes herself comfortable against him. "T'is quite a walk ye know, wanderin' all 'er like that. I'm be honest, I were pretty 'appy when I finally found what it were I was lookin' fer."
Rastellion wraps a strong arm around her, pulling her close against him. "An' what was that, 'xactly?" he asks, the grin audible in his voice. Not my pa, surely!'
Her sleepy giggles replied to his incredulous tone, and she smiled at him. "No, I weren't really 'xpectin' that, e'en if ye did warm me 'bout him."
Gently he nuzzles the back of her neck. "Well.. I'm just glad you're comin' back. I hated the thought of you out there. You belong back in Breeland ... with me."
Immalaine only murmurs a faint reply, as she's already drifting into sleep.
Rastellion awakens to the faint light of pre-dawn filtering through their small room's eastern windows. He senses dreams slipping away - warm and distracting ones - and he reaches for them as they vanish into forgetfulness. That instinctive motion brushes his hand over Immalaine's smooth flank, and he blinks the rest of the way awake.
He stares at her rich hair, cascading over her bare shoulder, for a few seconds before he remembers why he's here, with her, in this unfamiliar room: her abrupt departure from Bree, Zandrianna's scolding, his increasingly desperate search to find her in the wasted downs, the discovery at his uncle's ... and then their talk, their confessions. His promise to her, and hers to him.
He feels the weight of that - desire and affection warring with the still-bleeding injury of the rejection by the girl he thought he loved, who he thought loved him. But she would never have braved the high downs, like Immalaine did, never made sacrifices hoping to make him happy thereby. Not like Immalaine did... All this passes in a flash through his mind as his hand brushes over her warm skin.
Still asleep, having been exhausted by the past few days of traveling and emotional upheaval, Immalaine turns in the bed, mumbling to herself incomprehensible. As Rastellion's hand moves over her, she lets out a small yelp of fear, instinctively curling herself into a ball.
Rastellion freezes for a moment, surprised by her reaction. "Immalaine," he says low, "It's just a dream. You're safe!" He watches her face intently, not daring to move his hand again just yet.
Trembling, her mind caught in the murky depths of her past, she cries out as her eyes open, staring at the strange wall. Caught between dreams and waking, she tenses as terror takes over, only vaguely hearing Rastellion's voice behind her. Where? Where ... 'Safe ...' Rastellion's voice echos in her head, and slowly her mind began to recall ... Trestlebridge ... the inn ... Rastellion. Still shaking, she slowly relaxes, lifting her head up to turn and look at him, a mixture of relief and shame mirrored in her eyes, and another, more subtle emotion hiding behind them. "Rastellion ..." she said.
Rastellion pulls her closer to him in the warmth under the blankets. "Just a dream," he repeats. "We're safe." He glances up at the window. "Can even go back to sleep, if you're able. It's not even dawn yet... be another two or three hours before we need to rise."
Snuggling up against Rastellion, she hiding her face as she lets her racing heart settle, the gentle warmth of his arms acting as a comforting balm against the terror that had filled her head just moments earlier. "I ... 'morning Rastellion ..." she finally mumbles against him, her voice quiet and sedate.
Not answering, he simply strokes her hair as she presses her face against him - unsure of what's troubling the girl but sensing that she needs a few moments to collect herself and regain her composure.
Pulling her head back she looks at him, half sleepily, half awake, a small sheepish smile on her face. "Sorry," she says, embarrassed. "How'd ye sleep?" she asked.
"Fine," he says - not mentioning his distracting dreams. "Better than you, to judge by your reaction just now." He continues to stroke his hair, a bit of concern edging into his voice as he asks, "Are you okay?"
Immalaine blushes, nodding her head. "I'll be fine," she says, almost as though she were assuring herself as much as him. "Jus' I didna know where I was at first, is all." She slides her gaze past him a moment, biting her lip as she hopes he won't ask any more questions. "Still dark out, hmmm ..." she said, taking in the outline of the room.
"And we can sleep in a little, if we need. Been a long few days. An' it's an easy 'nuff ride to Bree from here." He chuckles. "And safer than the track through the downs!"
Immalaine nods, snuggling deeper into the covers as she rests her head against Rastellion's chest. "A little extra rest sounds like a fine idea 'bout now." she murmurs happily.
Rastellion smiles, feeling her finally relax after whatever nightmare had been troubling her. "Good," he says, smiling, then gently lifts her chin with one finger and places a soft, undemanding kiss on her lips.
Pausing for a brief second, Immalaine finally lets out a small sigh as she returns his kiss, her lips warm and yielding beneath his, before pulling away. "Now, how am I e'er goin' t' get any sleep at all like that?" she asks, grinning slightly in the dimness of the room.
Rastellion gently runs his hand along her hair, tucking it behind her ear. "Not asking me to stop, are you?" he asks, half-bemused, half-uncertain. "I will... if you're not ready." The admission is reluctant, but sincere.
Shaking her head almost imperceptibly, Immalaine replies. "No I'm not askin' ye ... I mean ... I jus' know ye really need t' get back t' Bree an' well ..." she grins, her voice half-amused as she trails off.
"Still dark out. Not much we can do about that for a few hours," he says in a low voice.
Immalaine shivers despite the warmth of the bed. "Aye, there's not much we can do 'bout that right now. But ... we could try sleepin' in," she says, giggling teasingly.
His eyes meet hers in the dim room. "And is that really what you want to do right now?"
"Mebbe it is," she nods, trying to act serious though the lilt in her voice and the twinkle in her eye belay her words.
He looks slightly crestfallen for a moment, then catches her lilt and expression. "In that case... maybe I should try to convince you otherwise," he replies, with an answering lilt. "After all, I'm all yours now. And..." he pauses briefly, as his eyes meet hers, as if drinking her in, and go a little wider. He finishes his sentence more softly: "... and I love you."
Her eyes widen slightly, hearing his words. "Rastellion ..." she says, sighing softly. She brushes her lips across his, the touch as light as a spring breeze, and nestles into the strength of his warm embrace.
It's more than two hours after dawn when the two young people finally emerge from the smoke-stained inn. They walk with clasped hands, grinning at each other.
Rastellion gestures at one half-repaired wall as they approach the stables. "See; they're fixin' this place up, more 'n more," he observes, and Immalaine, for no apparent reason, bursts into giggles and hugs him fiercely.
The dour groom who brings out Whitey shakes his head at their backs as they start out of the town. "Young 'uns," he mutters, then spits into a pile of half-rotten hay. "Not a lick o' sense in 'em."
But he leans on the gate, watching them ride away - Rastellion again with his arms around Immalaine - until the two crest the slope and disappear, heading on to Bree. There's a slight lightening of his features as he turns back to the stable-yard and the smoky half-wrecks of Trestlebridge.
(Credits and love go to Rastellion, who provided the voice of the male characters in this story. *Blows kisses to Rastellion and grins widely*)
