This chapter, the narrator isn't as... spunky, I guess, as the last chapter. Narry seems to fall flat halfway through and I start describing things more. Finally taking the job seriously, I suppose, narrator? Anyway, it's still early into the game and though I still don't see any romance, don't fret, because I'm sure I'll fit Drama Llama and Sexy Betsy into this barn somewhere. I can't wait until I start introducing the NPC's~ Well, here goes!

-:2:-

Firsts

When you're naked, you know you're naked. The small touches of your own warm skin brushing against itself in places where you normally would have a barrier give it away, even if you haven't even opened your eyes yet. That's why, as the mysterious lady who had the misfortune of being dropped out of the sky slowly came to, the blood in her veins fearfully hastened to a loud thumping. Granted she was laboured by pain, disoriented, and groggy as all hell as well, but that didn't delay the realization and the following implications of her being naked. I can only imagine all the horrible thoughts and questions running through her panicking mind.

Outwardly, it appeared she hadn't awoken yet, though her body was unnaturally still and quiet with not a breath daring to escape. Her ears strained for a sound. When nothing made itself known, as far as she knew, the belief that she was alone right now grew. She let out a breath. Since she figured she was alone, she dared to open her eyes.

This had to be the sketchiest looking place ever. And I agree. But she was a rational person first, and her eyes examined every detail of the room with wide eyes.

"Small!" She thought to herself, "Practically empty, no personal affects, all bare living requirements except for food. The fire's dim, suggesting whoever was here before has been gone for a while."

Taking a closer look at the fire, she noticed some torn fabrics laid out on the stone floor in front of the fireplace. Feeling the fabrics carefully, she noticed they were warm and dry. Her clothes, she suddenly recognized. Picking the shirt up however, revealed to her the rips as it practically fell apart in her hands. If possible, her expression became more lost and frightened. What happened to her? Did she get attacked? Where was she? What was she going to wear now that her clothes were ripped? What would she do if the person who brought her here came back? I could go on, but I'll spare you.

A shiver made its way down her spine, halfway caused by fear and half by cold. She needed clothes, her mind nagged as her body continued shivering. Looking at the tatters of her top with a teary-eyed exasperation, she decided to rip up the dangling, useless pieces and tie them around the outfit to help keep certain areas covered. She more ore less had khakis (it used to be full length pants...) and half a top now, overall looking like she was ready for summer. Well, beggars can't be choosers, lady. After successfully clothing herself to a degree and not feeling so indecent anymore, she drifted back to the bed and the warm blankets, deliberating what to do now.

She didn't have to think long, for she heard crunching in the snow outside. Reflexively she reached for the blanket and hid her body under it, staring at the door with apprehension as it creaked open...

My god—kill it! It's hideous! That's just gross-

What, that's just the … What a let down …

The guide walked in, shivering from the cold and burdens of snow piled onto his shoulders and head. Shaking himself off at the doorway, he took off his boots and stumbled straight to the fireplace. From her spot on the bed, the guest watched as the man placed a pot over the dying fire, poked at the fire to make it grow, and placed a decent-sized fish on the one table in the room. By the way his shoulders sagged like an old man, he appeared exhausted and probably was ready to sleep, except he seemed to be preparing to cook dinner. There was something routinized and normal about it all, as if her presence was an anomaly in space and time.

For a second, she thought maybe he wouldn't notice her. That was until he turned around and their eyes locked onto each other.

…

My, it was getting cold in here. The young lady and gentleman both froze faster than a dip in the icy lake (figuratively speaking, of course) from their respective places across the room, locked into a staring contest with each other. The guest, or hostage depending on the circumstances that she was currently ignorant about, had the covers pulled tightly over her form in a defensive manner. The guide's mind raced with hypothetical situations over what to say or do at this point. She was obviously lost and scared right now, and he needed to explain that without frightening her further … Where to start, though? If he leapt straight into how he found her falling from the sky, she might think he was crazy, and he wasn't ignorant enough to not realize what his situation looked like from an outsider's perspective. (And not from mine, because I see all, know all... The guide's wearing spotty boxer shorts.)

Sometimes he over-thought things and that made him miss the obvious sometimes. This caused him many awkward social situations at times because he would reach the wrong conclusion. Ironically, this is what endeared him supposedly to his ex-girlfriend, the crazy back-stabbing ho that she was. However, it was also what drove them apart, when the guide misinterpreted a question regarding his dream and caused her to blow up at him about his 'Satan worshipping'. I'm sure his lonely, bleeding heart is riddled with angst at the thought of his wookie-poo.

"I'm kind of glad that she's gone, honestly," the guide contemplated in remembrance of his first love that went horribly wrong. "Though it was a failure, she was my first real experience dealing with opposite sex. If it were her here, the first thing I would say would be …"

"How are you feeling?" In his excitement of her waking suddenly, he had forgotten about plain manners. I suppose it's understandable when a girl falls out of the sky, but still, geez.

Her defensive posture on the bed faltered for a moment as she regarded him. Unbeknownst to the man, this rather haplessly dressed female had been looking at him with more than just distrust and fear. He may be a lonely, desperate, and exiled man—I can't believe I'm saying this—but he wasn't completely ugly, you know. Sure, he had stubble over his unshaven chin, and his shaggy hair looked like it could use a good trim as well … but, his hair looked soft, clean, and was a pleasant golden brown like a field she wouldn't mind running her hands through. His face shape was mature but his features soft in a boyish way, and he radiated a sort of warmth from his sun-kissed skin (compared to hers, anyway) and pink lips. Intelligent, brown eyes locked on her with just as much genuine shock and … was it concern that furrowed his brow, or was he distressed for another reason?

His question had sounded so natural and routinized that her response came out on its own, as if she'd been asked that a million times. Well, maybe she had, but for some reason she couldn't recall any one such occasion where it had happened. Nonetheless, without her consent her lips were already shaping the words, "I'm fine, thank you." leaving her wondering whether she really was or not.

As an afterthought, feeling a bit slow on the uptake, she started to ask "who are you" but it fell flat once she realized he wanted to respond. Thus, she went unheard. She shifted shyly.

"I'm glad to hear that. You should stay in those blankets where it's warm, at least until your clothes have dried."

"Actually…"

Seemingly lost in thought, he continued regardless of her interruption, "…since we don't know whether you'll have gotten sick, you know, from being out in this wretched weather. Imagine how surprised I was to find you fallen there …"

"Sorry, I already-" She tried talking over him to gain a foothold in this one-sided conversation.

"Oh, sorry," he looked slightly startled, as if just remembering or realizing something. The next bit made her face fall in disappointment. "I have to cook this fish before it goes bad. I'll grab your clothes first—hey, where are your clothes! I know I put them here before I left… this isn't intentional, I swear it!" He looked genuinely flustered as he roved about the room in a panic.

She watched him in exasperation. It was hard to think suspiciously of him with him in such a state. Well, if her mousy voice couldn't reach him, maybe actions would. One simple act to do, then! All she had to do to show him where the clothes went to was to stand up and drop the blankets she had wrapped protectively around her body. The warm, silky material pooled at her feet with a sound like a waving flag. The distraught man whirled at the sound on the spot.

He seemed to pause for a long time, before finally reacting … "Oh, you found them."

"Actually," her voice, louder now and tinted with amusement, explained to him gently "while you were out I saw them in front of the fire, so I …" She let the sentence hang and the guide assumed the rest.

"That's good … I think my clothes are too big, and I don't have many with me to begin with…" He exhaled sharpy in relief. With another thought, he slowly stepped forward, holding out his hand.

Looking confused for a second, she hesitantly interpreted it as a greeting, and placed hers in his.

His next few actions were unexpected, as for the first time since she met him, he smiled. It wasn't a boastful, arrogant, or particularly confident one, though neither was it bashful or shy. It held a calm acceptance or knowing to it that seemed to transform his image from a dusty-looking hermit that kidnaps ladies, to a smart, considerate, and yet unfortunate young man.

His eyes in the low lighting glistened almost tearily as he locked eyes with the girl that the omniscient light bulb had tasked him with, and thusly had put an innocent man through hell for. His blue eyes intensely analyzed and commit to memory every detail about those wide, lost rubies that were hers, as if he were back in the village library again passionately studying. Her eyes in the shadows of those long lashes flickered uncertainly over his untelling face, but hers told of the tentative trust that she had placed in him. He saw her as youthful, trusting, fearful of so many things, but brave … Even if he hadn't met her in this situation, he might've still called her one of the most interesting girls he'd met so far. Not that it was saying much considering the size of his puny village in comparison to a city on modern day Earth.

As was customary of the times, he lifted her hand to his lips and gently placed a kiss on her finger tips, bending his body slightly at the waist in an offered bow of respect to a lady. He could feel his pulse quickening and the blood rushing in his veins as he did so, but he ignored it. He watched in confusion as she quirked a smile, but turned her head away as if to hide from him. It wasn't a customary reaction so he wasn't sure how to interpret that.

He forged on regardless, saying, "I am William, Miss …" He trailed off, waiting expectantly.

Her head still refused to face his, but her red eyes shyly glanced at him as quietly she said, "I am …" But then she stilled. Inside her mind, an internal struggle arose as she found herself surprisingly struggling to recall her name. This was something she should know, but she couldn't. "That is, you may call me …" She had this just a second ago! A word or name drifted to the top of her mind and before she knew it her mouth was saying "Mercy." Well she couldn't remember what her name really was, and that sounded familiar at least, so she deemed it acceptable.

"Poetic," William remarked silently with eyebrows raised. "I wonder, does it match the owner?"

A chorus of rumbling sounds, suspiciously like empty bellies, reminded him of uncooked supper. "Shall I cook us a meal? Regrettably, there isn't much variety around here…"

"I would like that." Mercy answered with a small smile, facing him more confidently. A light blush was notable on her cheeks, though he was sure it was from the stomach rumbles.

"Alright then, m'lady, if you would so kindly join me at the table … or you could wait here at the bed until I am finished."

She showed initiative when she not only accompanied him, but helped him prepare the fish. It was nothing he couldn't have done alone, of course, but he appreciated it anyway.

"This is my first time dining alone with a gentleman." She pondered aloud. At this time she didn't consider that he probably also saw her pretty much naked as well, which would be a first for her.

"Is that so?" He questioned with humour as he overheard. "And what of this gentleman of whom you speak? I hope you are not expecting monsieur Poisson, for I'm afraid he is quite busy with being a delicious meal for an exquisite guest…"

The whole situation was rather silly, what with his hobo-like exterior and their hands both fiddling with fish guts and other things while they talked so high-class to each other. Her laugh was infectious, the restrained giggling he heard sounding like water that would bubble over and flood the room if she didn't hold back. Well, he didn't.

Smiling and relaxing even through the manure Life threw at them both, a sense of peace started off their first of many nights together in Terraria.