The Reve's Tale

Heather breaks down and cries.

The Reve's Tale

Morning came all too early for the blonde-haired Bean-cheangial, and she moaned softly as she snuggled closer to her maighstir, or would have if her maighstir was still in bed. Instead of curling up in his warmth, Heather blindly felt around for the man who had saved her. Where is he? She wondered as the cooling spot under the covers intruded into her dreams. She mumbled into the pillows, “Maighstir, are you here?”

When she didn't receive an answer, she blinked the sleep from her green eyes and looked blearily around the room. Balgair was nowhere to be found. I wonder where he is? The thought went through her mind that could have left her. He left you, little slut. You weren't important enough to him, after all, and like the men of this town, he didn't think about you at all. As the depression weighed down on her, she closed her eyes and wept. In her distress, she forgot that she was bonded to him and that he could sense her moods.

What's wrong, mo tè àlainn?

She clung to Balgair's question like a drowning woman does a rope that's thrown from the shore, and Heather sobbed as she formulated an answer. I'm … I just …. and she broke down and cried as the link encompassed her and held her close. He gave her the time she needed to cry and then asked again.

What's wrong, mo te Alainn?

Heather rubbed her nose and eyes with the palms of her hands and sniffled as she contemplated what had made her cry.

I woke up, and you were gone. She explained. For some reason, my stupid spirit jumped to the conclusion that you had left me. She admitted and sighed. Where are you, Maighstir?

Heather could have sworn that Balgair was with her, and his arms were wrapped around her, holding her close. She sniffled again and cautiously tossed the covers aside. No, he wasn't there. Silly girl, of course; he has better things to do than sleep all day. She was pulled from her inner musings by what she could have sworn was a playful tug on her loose braid.

You do know that I can sense what you are feeling, right?

Heather nodded, even though Balgair couldn't see her. I do now, maighstir mo graidh. She projected the image of her tapping her foot on the ground, to which she heard his laughter in her mind.

To answer your question, I'm downstairs, visiting with Brandyn, Methak, and Ben. I think Enrique, Farank, and Arien are still asleep, for they haven't come down yet.

The mention of those six names brought a tender smile to Heather's face. They and Balgair had risked their lives to save her from Brigid, Yarrowsmith, and the Ancient Onel. Do you need me right now, or can I bathe first? She could have sworn that she sensed his smile when she mentioned her desire to take a bath. She could also sense that he wondered what she looked like undressed. An impish thought flittered through her mind, and she projected a picture of herself naked and reclining in a tub of hot water.

You little tease, don't make come up there. It was her turn to laugh, to which her maighstir echoed her mirth. Go ahead, mo te Alainn. Take your bath; I’ll still be downstairs when you are through. But don't take too long, or I will eat your breakfast. He teasingly threatened her.

Yes, Maighstir. She said dutifully. I will hurry and take my bath before you devour all of my breakfast like the thoughtless brute that you are. She couldn't help but tease.

Me, a thoughtless brute? Goddess forbid. He solemnly replied and then left her alone.

A tender smile crossed Heather's lips as she crawled out of bed, picked up the previously worn maid's outfit, and padded off into the bathroom.

She returned fifteen minutes later, feeling cleaner and somewhat refreshed, curling her nose as she put the soiled clothing back on. Didn't he say that we were going shopping today? The happenings of last evening were blurry, and she promised never to drink so much meadhon again. She sighed happily as she brushed out the long dirty-blonde locks, letting them fall around her shoulders and midway down her back.

I so need new clothes. I wonder what he'll buy me. And like that, her thoughts flew off to the land of short skirts and intimate wear.

When, after fifteen minutes, her hair shone like the sun, she smiled, placed the brush on the dresser, and then walked over to the door. All too soon, she was standing at the top of the stairs, looking down into the common room.