Random 73

He swallowed, having known for a while now how brittle the situation was. "You won't," he said softly, extracting his hand to touch her cheek with the very tips of his fingers. "I'll be there for you." Instead of saying anything more he just looked at her calmly, lowering his hand slowly.

"Thank you," she breathed. She meant it, even if the offer hurt. "But this is not the time." She turned half away from him and started peeling off her jacket.

Brittle indeed. "It isn't," he admitted, looking at the bucket. Reasoning that it was best to get to it, he took some water out of the barrel. His promise, well, whatever he meant by it, it would come to the light of day sooner or later. He checked on the stove and let Sylvie be, maybe sensing she needed to keep herself together without a pesky half-elf chattering her to the edge. Nerves, after all, Sebastian understood. More than too well.

Gemma returned with a stack of cloth including dry towels, Sylvie's own faded blue tunic, as well as her comb, a skirt borrowed from Riya, a thick shawl, and a dark red, quilted dressing gown.

Sylvie murmured a general thanks and started rinsing her jacket in the bucket Sebastian had left behind. Might be better if Gemma did not get too close a look at her face right now.

Gemma split the stack on the table, pointed out the last, and told "Kai", "We don't have anything that fits you in the house; this is the best I can do. How's the fire coming along?"

Sebastian looked at the gown once, then at Gemma. The rain may not have bothered him anymore, nor Gemma's brusque manner, but his eyes itched and the shadows under them weren't going anywhere soon. Whether or not the dressing gown was meant as an insult, he paid no heed to it. "It's fine, thank you. As long as it's dry. The fire's coming along. I just checked and put some more wood in."

"All right." On top of everything else, not being able to make a proper job of things bothered her. "I'll get you the pot in a few minutes. Tea'll be waiting when you're finished." Nothing wrong with discouraging dawdling, after all. Looking at Sylvie, she asked, "Do you need anything else here?"

The half-elf glanced at the ceiling momentarily as he thought. "No, I don't think so. The sooner the stink goes, the sooner..." he left it at that, looking at Gemma.

Sylvie shook her head, and Gemma nodded, conceding the point.

By the time Gemma brought a big pot of still merely lukewarm water, Sylvie was sitting near the stove, rinsing out her trousers. The first bucket of fouled water she had ran across the floor to wash away some of their footprints. The tiles were colder than she would have liked, and her shirt still stuck to her, but having something simple to do helped calm her mind, even if her shoulders and back complained.

As soon as Gemma had left the room, she said, "I've been meaning to ask you... if somebody wants to know how we met, should I tell them?"

Considering how many times he'd been been humiliated by being naked, Sebastian stripped down entirely, examining the sore parts of his body. The hand and his chin hadn't been the only bits to take their bit of punishment, and he assumed he would have quite a bit of bruising by the next morning. As he undid his braid, he considered the question. "Yes," he said, glancing over, then sitting down on the stool, hands crossed. "I was thinking about that myself. It's bound to come up sooner or later."

She spilled the water over the floor, taking some more of the dirst with it, or at least spreading it more thinly, and got up to add her trousers to the vat and get another bucket of water. "I'd just been wondering if you wanted the details out, since, ah, it does not exactly make you sound glorious."

He smiled ruefully at that. "Saying that I slipped in the mud trying to kill something that had never done anything to me and accidentally got myself a concussion? At least it's honest." A part of him would have wanted to laugh.

"All right, then."

She finally got out of the rest of her stinking clothes, which she'd kept on for Gemma's benefit, and sat down again to rinse that last batch.

After a nod, he turned to stare at the lukewarm water. Inglorious, certainly, but she had insisted on honesty -- where it would take them, well, that remained to be seen. Sebastian would dearly have fallen into one of his trances and just stared at the wall, but instead glanced at the stove, the water and closed his eyes. Then he set off to clean, too.

Sylvie found them soap, washcloths and a smaller container to bail water with. She drew another bucket of rainwater, balanced it on the edge of the barrel, ducked, held her breath, and poured most of it over her head. It left her shivering again, but her head felt clearer. Moving next to the stove she asked, "Trade backscrubbing?"

Seeing her pour cold water all over herself, he nodded to himself. Smart, actually. "Gladly," Sebastian said, took the bucket, examined it and repeated what she had just done, teeth grit. On his part, that was possibly even smarter -- or not. In any case, he found his attention span and mental gears to be working again. "You first," was his next choice of words, taking the soapand a washcloth.

"Thanks." She picked up her comb, sat down with her back to the unoccupied stool, pulled her hair over one shoulder and started trying in earnest to detangle it.

Sebastian made a slight, soft sound and considered the washcloth and soap. "If you want, I can help with that. You might guess I have some experience."

That got a tiny chuckle. "That would be lovely. The start isn't so bad, but reaching up and behind my head right now..."

He handed over the soap and washcloth, made an amused sound and appropriated the comb, setting off to work with skilled fingers. "I know. You know I know. Or I think so," at least, he said, going deftly through the tangled hair.

Sylvie gave him a slightly amused hum - she wasn't entirely sure what he meant -, rolled her shoulders, and started soaping up, trying to hold her head still.

The process did take its time, and at some point Sebastian began to hum, cutting it out after a while once he realised he was doing so. It might have been too distracting, considering how exhausted Sylvie had seemed.

Too calming might have been the more appropriate label. In any case, when Sebastian finished, her shoulders and back where not as painfully cramped as they had been.

And once he was finished, he played a prank he had played countless times: he left the comb firmly in her hair, not stuck, but firmly in place and extended an arm snapping his fingers as an indication that it was now time for the backscrub.

Sylvie handed him the soap and washcloth, and plucked the comb from above her right ear, oblivious that it had been meant to be a prank. It wasn't a particularly decorative one, not meant to be worn.

An unseen smirk later, Sebastian examined Sylvie's back (well, he'd seen it before, so no surprise there) and tried to decide what was the best bit to start with. In the end, he started to scrub her back from between the shoulder blades, somewhat worried it might relax her too much. He didn't want her to fall asleep.

Sylvie already had an idea agaist relaxing too much. Too bad. "You'll at least start talking when we're finished here, right?"

"I will. I promised, didn't I?" he said, working on her lower back now, trying to keep his mind on the conversation rather than what he was doing -- to a point. "I'll answer any questions, too." As much as it pained him. This was too important now.

"I'll have your back, where I can."

"Thanks. Oh, and you'll have it soon, anyway."

Yes, he could still make her chuckle.

Chuckling himself, Sebastian patted her lower back with a smile, scrubbed the sides of her back and then her neck. "Good enough for you?"

"Yes. Thanks a lot." Sylvie leaned into his thouch on her neck before turning far enough to see him out of the corner of her eye and holding out her hand for the soap.

Sylvie got a fresh washcloth and said, "Your turn".

He nodded rubbed his arms and said, "Thank you." Then he seated himself, examining his hands, eyes half-closed. "Right side's so stiff from that, er, fall that it's easier with help."

"Mhm." He sat with his back to the wall that held the lamp, so Sylvie could get a decent look. There was some bruising which would probably spread before it got better. She got his hair out of the way and poured some of the relatively warm water over his back. "I'd offer proper help if I didn't think I'd fall over if I tried any more magic today."

"Appreciated, anyway, but I'll manage. I'd rather not tire you out," Sebastian replied, eyes still half-closed, hanging his head in order to get rid of the kinks in her neck and shoulders. Fairly warm water helped relaxed his muscles at least. He gave a sigh.

Yes, that was funny, too. A bit late for that. Sylvie started working her way down from the back of his neck. If she could smooth out a few of the knots, all the better, though she did watch for signs of pain. "I find backscrubbing always easier when you can trade."

"Unless you happen to be double-jointed, which I am not," Sebastian commented, letting out a low growl when she began to work on the knots in her neck. "Remind me to ask you to do that again later," he said hoarsely, muttering something else in a language she didn't know. The tone was more or less akin to 'oh damn that's good', though.

"Mhm, taking proper time, trading favours," She said, smiling and moving on. She had to let up a bit; her arms protested the strain with a slight tremor.

Acknowledgement was nice, but... "I really hope no-one was listening at the door just then," she whispered, close to laughing.