Leave the Rest to Me.
Posted: Wed May 14, 2008 1:21 pm
Diane awoke with a groan as the sunlight managed to find the one crack in the closed window shudder and land so annoyingly on her left eye. With consciousness came pain: a wave of nausea as her head pounded harder than the orcish war drums that filled the night air the past few evenings. What has she been doing? Where was she?
The inn. She vaguely remembered leaving the company of Lucas and Kard to go to the inn. As if opening a floodgate, the rest of he evening followed suit: she had removed the wine she had been saving since her arrival in Rivermoot, the graduation present from her parents back in Tethyr. She was not one to drink usually: in fact, the last time she had a drink was weeks ago on the bridge with Lucas. However, that evening she had felt the need to drain the bottle of every last ounce of deep red liquid she could.
He was gone. The subject of her drinking suddenly struck her mind, and she nearly hurled up what she had been able to keep down from last night. Pushing herself out of bed, she fumbled around her armoire for a robe, wrapping it around herself and holding it closed with her hands, not wanting to do the necessary thinking to tie is securely shut. She walked to the window and pushed the shudders aside, looking out over the slowly awakening hamlet that had been placed under her care.
Her gaze inevitably fell to the small table and chairs just outside the inn, where she had first met some of the finest friends the Realms could offer her. Now one of them was gone, slain by the abominable creatures she sat on this bridge looking out for. Her hand went to her head as the pain intensified, and she grit her teeth against the urge to cry. She would not cry. Not now. Not ever.
Walking outside, she had girded herself in her chain mail and walked the small road towards the bridge. Stopping by the harbor house, she frowned deeply. Just a few nights before, the moon elf had walked by here as she herself was walking from a long shift on the bridge. Without having to say a word, he smiled at her warmly, smacked her rear as he often did, and said, “Rest now. Leave the rest to me.” She wasn’t sure why, but those words had been ringing in her head since he said them, and now more than ever, she wanted him to walk by and give her that grin he seemed to have whenever she was about.
She took her post at the bridge to Rivermoot, giving a silent nod to Lucas, who had been there hours before. Instead of her gaze looking to the north, where the obvious threat would come from, her eyes wandered east, where the last vestiges of the moon could be seen setting. Closing her eyes as she felt herself get choked up, she steeled her resolve for the day ahead, and opening them, whispered softly to herself:
“Rest now, Tathar. Leave the rest to me.”
The inn. She vaguely remembered leaving the company of Lucas and Kard to go to the inn. As if opening a floodgate, the rest of he evening followed suit: she had removed the wine she had been saving since her arrival in Rivermoot, the graduation present from her parents back in Tethyr. She was not one to drink usually: in fact, the last time she had a drink was weeks ago on the bridge with Lucas. However, that evening she had felt the need to drain the bottle of every last ounce of deep red liquid she could.
He was gone. The subject of her drinking suddenly struck her mind, and she nearly hurled up what she had been able to keep down from last night. Pushing herself out of bed, she fumbled around her armoire for a robe, wrapping it around herself and holding it closed with her hands, not wanting to do the necessary thinking to tie is securely shut. She walked to the window and pushed the shudders aside, looking out over the slowly awakening hamlet that had been placed under her care.
Her gaze inevitably fell to the small table and chairs just outside the inn, where she had first met some of the finest friends the Realms could offer her. Now one of them was gone, slain by the abominable creatures she sat on this bridge looking out for. Her hand went to her head as the pain intensified, and she grit her teeth against the urge to cry. She would not cry. Not now. Not ever.
Walking outside, she had girded herself in her chain mail and walked the small road towards the bridge. Stopping by the harbor house, she frowned deeply. Just a few nights before, the moon elf had walked by here as she herself was walking from a long shift on the bridge. Without having to say a word, he smiled at her warmly, smacked her rear as he often did, and said, “Rest now. Leave the rest to me.” She wasn’t sure why, but those words had been ringing in her head since he said them, and now more than ever, she wanted him to walk by and give her that grin he seemed to have whenever she was about.
She took her post at the bridge to Rivermoot, giving a silent nod to Lucas, who had been there hours before. Instead of her gaze looking to the north, where the obvious threat would come from, her eyes wandered east, where the last vestiges of the moon could be seen setting. Closing her eyes as she felt herself get choked up, she steeled her resolve for the day ahead, and opening them, whispered softly to herself:
“Rest now, Tathar. Leave the rest to me.”
