Nairn hummed, as she played with his hair, admitting she'd like a smoke. Mmm, yeah. We can smoke. Your stuff's on the other side of the bed, 'cept your clothes. They sent those to laundry. She didn't seem fully awake, yet. Otherwise, he was certain, she'd not be playing with his hair still.
Didn't know mages could get... empty. He mused, studying her, thoughtfully. And Bertie stopped by for his report. Don't worry, he's more mad at me than you. He snorted. The old man had acted like he'd waltzed his daughter out in front of a firing squad, had scolded Nairn for letting her over-exert herself. Nothing he didn't do anytime they paired him up, though.
They did get the rat. Fledg did good. Danny reported back a bit ago. His gaze was following her fingers, as she twirled his hair around them. He doesn't speak on his privacy; there'll be rumors enough. Just carrying her on his back had been enough to set that fire. But she seemed to feel guilty, so he stayed quiet.
Meg hummed, a lazy smile spreading across her face as he agreed to a smoke. You’re gonna have to hook us up… I can barely sit myself up, let alone pack a pipe. Everythings in the front pocket. As each minute passed the weight behind her eyes lessened though her body remained lax, comfortable, fingers still played with his hair despite her waking up.
She’d smile up at him, sheepishly nodding. We’re not supposed to. It can end badly if we go too far. I didn’t though, don’t worry. I’ll just… be as weak as a kitten for a few days. She would be signed off, told to avoid the simplest of spells for a while, but she’d make a full recovery. So don't do anything silly for a few days, okay?
I’ll sweet talk him back around again. Tell him you were a gentleman and he’ll be back to his usually grumpy self with you. Her tone teasing, Meg chuckled, and taking a deep breath nodded at hearing the job had a successful end. Good. Good. Avoided being turned into ash, and a job completed. Not a bad outcome… She’d wince as a peak in the pressure of her skull and with some effort, weakly moved to sit herself up, fingers untethering from their hold around his strands.
Nairn shook his head at her, and once she'd let his hair go, he slipped around to the other side of the bed, to rummage through her bag. He eventually found a small pouch, and the pipe in question. Settling next to her, he'd quietly prepare the pipe. Offering it, and a matchbook to her, he'd hum.
Well, I guess ending up in my bed's better than ending up in the ground? He joked, not seeming to realize how it sounded. And then she was talking about sweet-talking Bertie, explaining he'd been a gentleman, and his face colored scarlet.
Bertie k-k-know I wou-wouldn't do no-t-t-thing. He murmured, shaking his head at her. Though, it reminded him of the passerbys from the night before. Looking past them as they'd talked in the doorway. Nairn grumbled, as he scooted her, nudging her with his hip to the side he'd vacated.
Do... do you wanna stay here? 'til you're better? She'd said a few days; and that he shouldn't do anything silly... He wasn't keen on letting her off on her own. Not right now, anyway. But he knew sooner or later, Ruth would stop in. And having a girl in his bed when the shithead did stop in, could prove problematic.
While Nairn fetched and prepared the pipe, Meg tried her best to shift into an upright position finding support in the pillows. She’d smile at him, taking the pipe and matches and with a practised ease lit the bell, taking in a draw or two to get it started. The first real deep inhale unfortunately came just after his comment, causing the healer to nearly choke on the draw, herb catching the back of her throat.
Meg spluttered, Um… yeah… might have cracked my head open… like a egg.. just scrambled head juice everywhere. She offered him the pipe, the other hand trying to rub out the burning in her chest, doing her best to smile and not give away the directness of his joke. Thank you for catching me. Saved my noggin’.
The switch in his colouring though pulled a deep chuckle from her, her smile softened, and a layer of truthful meaning meant to steady him filled her tone. Exactly, Nairn. You wouldn’t. Then he’d nudge her, wanting her to scoot over and though it was slow and took her agonisingly longer than usual, Meg managed.
His offer however, caught her off guard, causing an arm to give out underneath her that made her sink to far over to one side. Um… I. I don’t think I’m really in a position to make that choice? Though he could pass her back along to the infirmary if it was inconvenient for him. Meg’s shoulders weakly tried to shrug. You place, so your rules… what did the healers say?
Nairn cleared his throat, as she choked on her own herb. She offered the pipe out to him, and he didn't seem to understand what had choked her up, except she'd inhaled too hard or something. He accepted the pipe, and took a draw. A pause, and then another draw. Then he'd pass it back to her.
I don't like other healers, he grumbled, and I don't really like mage ones. Bertie probably told you that. Often, he'd warn any new mages off of trying to get close to, or help Nairn. Never really telling them more than that, though. The preference showed in scars that littered his body; which would have been cleaner if he'd let them heal him with magic instead. (Or if he'd even gone to a healer in the first place.)
She sank to one side, and he leaned to right her, gently securing a pillow on that side of her. Mmm. Healers said take you back to them if you got sick. S'posed to wake you up every few hours, uhhh, something, something, something? He helpfully supplied with a shrug.
You can stay. It's nice. He decided, settling back against the head of the bed.
The burning in her chest eased, and a mere glance at his face told her he’d not a hint of understanding of the deeper meaning, or interpretation of the joke. Taking back the pipe and sliding the nib into her mouth, Meg smiled tugged secretly, deciding not to enlighten him and ruin the comfortable atmosphere.
Taking a draw, her head tilted thoughtfully. Yeah, he did, but I didn’t know who you were till after I fixed you up. Hard to fob me off when you’d half your insides on the outside. I dunno if you remember, but you tried to escape when you woke up. She chuckled, sucking and inhaling another calming draw and offering it back when she tried to shift on to his empty side.
Of course her body failed her, his help righting her back up and out of the threat of being smothered by the plump pillows earned a soft sigh. A blush coloured her cheeks though, the closeness of his bare chest not lost on her. Noting the newer nicks and scrapes earned since their first meeting. Her returning smile grew lopsided, the herbs effect more potent with her reserves low and Meg chuckled, giving his helpfulness already. Thanks… and they probably meant if I suddenly spiked a fever. That would be bad, but I don’t feel it’ll come to that. No, she was not too deep in the well to make herself a further inconvenience.
Meg rolled her head against the pillow, tilting her chin upwards to look at him. If I get in the way though, I’ll go. Might need help getting to the infirmary, but I don’t want to disturb your peace. You’re already doing a lot. People would ask questions. If Bertie knew she was here, others did too. He usually avoided attention and this, her being here and staying, would bring a few looks and raised eyebrows. Only Bertie and those close to him would perhaps tease him over it. You need sleep too though… forgetting completely that they’d been sleeping side by side earlier, but yeah, this is nice. Oooh… I didn’t say anything silly in my sleep did I?
Nairn snorted, nostrils flaring slightly. I don't remember that, no. I just remember waking up after, and not dying. He admitted. He didn't remember that once she'd calmed him down, he'd sang a little tune about how pretty she was. Gods; he'd be a dead man on the floor if he'd remembered that.
He shrugged, as she elaborated. I've gotta list, somewheres. Of what to watch for. He admitted, a lazy grin trailing across his lips. Just don't wanna get up to find it, since you seem okay.
Then she was promising to leave, if she got in the way. Another shrug, If you're trying to keep the fact you're here on the down-low, sorry. Bertie and I chatted outside the door last night, during mess. Everyone gawked at the girl in my bed already, he snorted, another shrug. Wouldn't be the first time someone runs their mouth about a good deed. He wasn't the nicest person, after all.
He laughed, reaching to steal the pipe for a puff. You and I, he indicated the place she was laying, slept side-by-side. Maybe you did hit your head a little hard. Dunno if you talked in your sleep, though... An attempt at teasing her, though his tone was deadpan factual.
Another draw, before he handed the pipe back. ...you did freak out, whenever the healers were dealing with you. Didn't calm down 'til you were in my arms again. Part of why I brought you here instead. Seemed like you felt safer. He shrugged, as if it meant nothing. A lot of people found him safe.
She grinned up at him, amused, but not surprised by the lack of recollection. In the year since, she hadn’t mentioned anything bar his attempt to escape. It had taken a number of hours to make sure he didn’t die on her table, and some clever wordplay to convince him to put down the kitchen knife picked up in his search for a weapon. Once the sharp implements had been securely put away the Coterie’s lead assassin had been a model patient, his singing and confession only endearing him more to her.
It helps that I am very good at what I do… but I have felt better. Meg nodded, her eyes falling closed again as she sank deeper into the pillows and took another deep draw. The herb mingled in her system, soothing the harsh edges of the clanging going on in her head. I am ok, just… helpless.
She’d peek an eye open though as he talked about the new mill of gossip that would no doubt be making it’s way through the C’s ranks. A half-grin spread slowly across one side. The unconscious, comatosed, girl in your bed…not exactly thrilling gossip if I’m just sleeping. You know what they say about good deeds though. Did Bertie give you an inkling to your punishment… or mine? No doubt she’d be scrubbing pots or made to sit through another lecture from one of the other mages which caused her eyes to roll.
His laugh however, softened her face entirely, how it fell so freely without his usual steeled exterior. Slowly, she was beginning to realise that in private, he was almost entirely at ease with her. He plucked the pipe from her hand, nib slipping out of her mouth without resistance and unable to quell it, the elf giggled at the theft. I did, wasn’t expecting the shove, a shoulder tried to shrug, only shifting slightly, But then I don’t think we expected Thalo to be so stupid to try and light up Darktown.
As he passed her pipe back, she missed catching the nib with her mouth as he recounted her reaction with the healers. I… I did? I… the nib traced her lower lip and offering a hum in return Meg stared off, attempting to find an answer that didn’t have further questions making it suddenly awkward. Her ears felt warm, how did she… Must be. Might be strange smells, unfamiliar people too… probably, but yeah, I do feel safe here.
Nairn hummed, studying her. Mmm. We're gonna be 'given our punishment as a pair', he rolled his eyes. Probably responsible for clean-up after mess, or something. A mild punishment, considering some of the shit John Marc handed down.
He shrugged, Mmm. Lighting the mines up was... an interesting choice. He snorted, taking a draw from the pipe. She had it, soon after. Well, I did tell you, I'd always keep you safe. He reminded her, settling against the pillows, absently.
A moment passed, as he considered whether he wanted to go back to sleep. And then he slipped out of the bed, to a small stack of books, pulling one out. If you wanna rest some more, I'll just read. Gotta catch up, anyway, they just released the newest one.
Pfft, he’s being easy, Meg scoffed, eyes narrowing slightly. Wonder what he’s playin’ at? Bet that’s just for starters. Crafty bugger. Bertie was always up to something, and when he was ready and his plan all worked out, they’d hear about it then and only then.
Terrible choice, but he’d already made the worst one. It’s why we were chasin’. Releasing a plume of smoke, Meg shrugged, passing the pipe back and forth. Her lids were growing heavy again, her brief surface of consciousness was slowly reaching its limit. She was aware enough to not miss the quiet promise of always, causing another flush of heat along her cheeks. Yeah… you did, Meg murmured, tucking her head into her chest. And you do.
They’d quietly pass the pipe back and forth until his weight lifted off the bed and her chest tightened with a sudden surge of anxiousness. But he wasn’t leaving, only finding a book to read and Meg’s grin returned, lips parting to speak, but then hesitating a moment. Newest what? I know theres sometimes journals that pop up in the mess, but they’re never in order… or complete… or even in print anymore…
Newest Tower 65 Mystery. He explained, already settling back into his chosen side of the bed, sparse of pillows but it didn't seem to change his comfort levels. He'd slept on worse. He flipped the book open, so she could see the face plate.
They're a serial set, written by whoever Tower 65 is, he snorted. It was an odd name for an author, but when one wanted to remain anonymous, they really needed to be odd to achieve anonymity.
Books in the mess are usually stolen, too. That's why so many aren't complete, or in order. He added, chuckling. It's a game among the youngin's.
Meg blinked at him, You mean... the series writers that had the story about the villagers and them tryin' to survive the flesh eating fog? She tried to sit up more, growing a little excited but ultimately failed to gain any traction. She huffed in frustration. I got three editions into that tale before those little darlin's hopped off with it... didn't get to read how it ended.
Pouting, Meg peered at the cover, I'm very jealous right now. Perhaps a little, but nothing that would fester, maybe he'd let her borrow it or... Meg took a last draw, then carefully set the pipe down on a side table.
I'll likely go back to sleepy town soon, certainly now her head ached less, but would you mind reading a little to me?
Nairn grinned, amused. Mmm, I've got that one, somewhere. You can check the shelves tomorrow morning. He settled in, humming thoughtfully at her. Sure, from the beginning, then. He shuffled through the pages, until they were on the very first page.
And he'd read, until she drifted to sleep. Then he'd mark the page, and settle down next to her, watching her sleep. He found that he didn't mind sharing his bed with her.
