Again, great thanks to KB for coming up with such a rich and wonderful world for us all to enjoy. I write only because she has inspired me, not for any financial gain.
Karigan felt herself coming back from the total darkness of hard sleep. Too groggy to even open her eyes, she relied on her other senses. The smell of a fire, the feel of her back in a hard chair, the heavy cold weight of soaked clothes, a tugging at her feet, and... What's that sound? Grunting?
Finally peeling her eyes open through sheer force of will, she saw what her brain had trouble registering. Zachary, the high king of Sacoridia, was trying to take off her water logged boots. "Where are we?" she rasped through her dry throat.
Startled, Zachary looked up. "The waystation in the woods near North." Suddenly looking uncomfortable, Zachary said, "Karigan, you've used your brooch too long, and we have to get you warm. Can you wiggle your foot so I can get your boot off?"
She tried pointing her foot, at last giving the king the help he needed. The boot came off with a yank, quickly followed by its mate. He reached up her calf and peeling down the soaked stocking as the reality of his actions finally hit home. "Are you, are you taking off my clothes?"
"Karigan, your lips, fingertips, and your toes are blue. You have to get out of these soaked clothes and into something dry. That cabinet has plenty of clothes. Do you think you can manage getting yourself changed on your own?"
"Yes, I'll be fine. Thank you." She spoke in staggered syllables, trying to focus all her mental faculties on sitting up straight.
"Well," he seemed reluctant to leave her side, "I'll get you something to put on." Turning his back, he took his time studying the contents of the cupboard, gently rifling through the stacks of shirts, obviously trying to give her enough time to change. Without looking at her, he laid a large folded square of white linen on the arm of her chair. "I'll go see to your horse and get some supplies for dinner. Will you be alright?"
"Yes your highness. I can managed." She spoke awkwardly, wanting him to leave while a treacherous part of her wanted him to stay. Making the most of her limited privacy, Karigan attempted to unlace the neck of her riding shirt. Her fingers, so stiff with the cold, struggled with the knot that would have easily pulled free if her shirt were dry. She concentrated on freeing one lace at a time, making no headway but exhausting herself nonetheless. Feeling her temper rise, Karigan laid her head back and took several deep, calming breaths. Unfortunately, this method worked too well.
When Zachary walked back in the cabin, arms loaded with food supplies and a bucket of water, he was greeted with the light sounds of snoring from Karigan's slightly open mouth. Gods, she should have been dressed and in bed by now. Dropping his bundles by the fireplace, Zachary wasted no time in cutting the stubborn shirt lacings with his boot knife. Quickly yanking the shirt tails from her riding pants, he pulled the fabric over her head. Realizing he couldn't remove her pants while she sat in the chair, he carried her the few short feet to the bed. Trying to be efficient and respectful of her modesty, Zachary allowed himself only the briefest of glances as he finally managed to pull the cold fabric from her legs. But in that brief glance, he froze.
Scars. Scars everywhere. Some he knew the stories behind. The shine of healed burns on the insides of her wrists from the blood of the Blackveil creature. A healed stab wound just below her ribs when Lil had taken control of Karigan to drop Mornhaven into the future. Other scars whose origins were a mystery to him. So many. All my fault, every mark. I couldn't protect her. I can't even manage now. Heartsick with his own failure, Zachary slipped an overly large shirt on over her slim frame. A shirt large enough for Garth would certainly manage as a nightgown for Karigan.
She mumbled unintelligably as he tucked her into the bed, its blankets warmed by the fire. Turning away from her and towards the shelves of uniforms, he selected a pair of pants and rid himself of his own damp and soiled clothes. Having dressed in a fresh pair of pants, Zachary slid back the blankets covering Karigan and eased himself beside her into the small bed. She automatically rolled, curling up into his chest.
And before he drifted off to sleep with her tucked in his arms, he could have sworn he heard her mumble a sleepy, "You have a lovely backside."