Day Three: London After the Great Fire, 1666

Though trying to remain vigilant, Spike succumbed to his fatigue from the events that had transpired from the day before. He woke up suddenly to hear glass shattering and bolted up. Rushing out to see sunlight shining through the broken front window, he dodged that spot of light as he ran towards Angelus' room. The door was cast open, but all that remained was the slumped body of the woman Angelus had fed on the previous night.

"Dru!" Spike called out, panic lacing his voice as he fled to their bedroom, fear now solidifying in the pit of his stomach. The sheets were rumpled, but the bed lay empty. "Drusilla!" he called out again as he ran throughout the home, looking into the kitchen, then pantry. He slumped down by the cupboards, eyes welling as misery dawned on him. In that moment of weakness, another window was shattered above his head. Shards of glass showered down around him and angry voices could be heard shouting.

"It's 'ere! We spotted the demon in 'ere!"

"Kill it! Burn it to the ground!" another voice chimed in. Spike glanced up to see the silhouettes of a lynch mob running around the perimeter of the house. Still hidden from view, he regained his wits and ran back towards his progeny's bedroom.

"Elizabeth! We need to leave. They've found us!"

Elizabeth sat up with a jolt and looked at him. Without delay, she scrambled out of bed and threw on an old day dress.

"It's daytime; how can we get out?" she asked, not bothering to take anything with her, as there was no time to pack. Listening to the commotion outside, she stripped the sheets off of the bed, hoping they would serve to shield them from the sun. The girl was indeed frightened but she well knew hysterics would not help in the least right now.

"We'll manage," Spike growled, yanking the thick draperies off its hooks, then wrapped it around to cover his head and back. "Come on!" he led her to the backdoor, hearing bricks shattering more glass, and torches being flung in soon after. Cheering could be heard as they slipped out; Spike hoped they were undetected by the mob's triumphant distraction.

┼†‡

It was a risky trek, being out in the middle of the day, looking like two common street urchins as they kept to the shadows. Spike pulled Elizabeth along, weaving her around to find some safe refuge, away from people, and more importantly, from light. But where could they go unless it was a place of public access?

Cloaked in her bedsheets, Elizabeth followed close behind him as they hid in a dark alley, "There has to be somewhere we can go," she said to herself. "I believe there is an abandoned farm near the train stations. It doesn't appear as though anyone lives there," she suggested, letting out a sigh as she pulled the sheets closer to herself.

"Sounds like a good plan as any," Spike replied, giving a curt nod. He scurried along, keeping his head low to avoid any unwelcome attention.

┼†‡

The train station was a good hour's walk from the heart of the city and their former home. When they had reached the farm, the only standing structure that was reasonably sound for them to take shelter in was the barn. Spike kicked the boarded doors down to get in, but once inside, they were swathed in darkness. The dirt floor was littered with straw; cobwebs hung from the corners and rafters; and the air was dank and smelled of dung. It was anything but charming, but with the windows also boarded, they would be at ease to know that no light would come in.

"Home, sweet home," Spike sighed. He shuffled across the length of the area and sat down on a thin layer of straw, propping his head back against the post behind him. It would have to do for now; it was better than having to take to the sewers like a rat. And just as the thought had crossed his mind, a rat scuttled across his path.

Elizabeth balled up her sheets as she looked around, seeing a ladder leading up to a loft. Grabbing a broom to remove cobwebs or stave off rats, she climbed up and nodded a bit in approval.

"It is a bit better up here in the loft," she called down below. She spread her sheets on some straw for a makeshift bed before plopping down. Spike glanced up. Following her suggestion, he stood and climbed the ladder to join her. There was little difference to him, save for having wooden planks beneath his feet instead of dirt. He lay back on one side of the sheets that Elizabeth had prepared and used the draperies he had as a blanket.

"This is bollocks," he said simply, staring up at the dark ceiling not far above them. The situation they were currently in, having to hide away in an abandoned farmhouse; having humans revolt and try to kill them; and- the last blow that hurt him the most- having his sires, his companions, abandon him, were exactly as he had called it- bollocks.

Elizabeth sighed in agreement as she lay on the other side, leaving plenty of space in between them. She had heard him calling for Drusilla; knowing they were gone, the realisation of what happened soon came to her. She looked at him with a sympathetic look, wanting to ask him if he was all right, but decided against it. This was not the best time.

"Where do we go from here?" she asked as she looked up at the ceiling, letting her mind wander.

"Anywhere the wind blows," Spike replied, his eyes still staring skyward. He wondered where Angelus had taken Drusilla. Had she gone willingly, or did Angelus have to coerce her with his ways? Drusilla was easy prey to his charms, so it probably didn't take much effort. Spike remained silent for a long while, then spoke: "Is there a place you desire to see?" he turned his head to face her, seeing only shadows obscuring her features.

At his question, Elizabeth tilted her head in thought then turned to him, "I've always wanted to see France. My mother told me stories of the French countryside, how it was so peaceful and beautiful. Or Italy. Anywhere beautiful and quiet," she said softly as visions of long winding roads and lovely buildings filled her head. They were so different, he nearly weathered by a harsh reality and she, still young and idealistic. It was an uncommon yet welcome conversation as she studied how the shadows contoured his face. Had she not known better, she would never suspect him for a monster.

"I've heard summers are really lovely in France," he commented, "and the wine's splendid," he spoke from experience. "I've always wished to see Italy myself when I was a young man," he said, his accent slipping back into one that resembled more like the upper class one he was raised with. "We shall go to both," he smiled, "find adventures in every opportunity and leave a mark wherever we've embarked." It was odd, but he realised that this was the first time that they were actually having a conversation. She finally looked at ease and no longer the timid mouse he had perceived her as- he didn't even have to strain to hear her speak.

Hearing his voice take a more elegant tone, Elizabeth turned to him a bit and even smiled a little, "I was never one for adventures. Well, my father used to have to drag me out of the gardens. I was playing with fairies and did not want to come inside," she recalled with a bittersweet laugh. "I pretended I was the queen. Flitting around with a shawl for wings," she said with a soft tone. She actually felt more at ease talking to him now. She didn't know why, but she thought it best to just enjoy this truce while it lasted.

"There is no one to stop you from having them now. The world is for our taking, laid out at our feet for our pleasures and pursuits!" Spike announced as though he were delivering a speech. Elizabeth smiled at the thought of going where she pleased, doing things as she liked. She was a naturally inhibited girl, but she liked the idea of freedom.

Spike had detected the slight dissonance with the way she spoke about her past, in particular, her father. He peered at her curiously, wondering if that man was the reason for her to turn to God and renounce her comfortable lifestyle. He lay back down on his back. Folding an arm beneath his head, he stared back up at the ceiling, "Was he the reason," he paused to glance at her, "you joined a convent?" It was a rather probing question, but Spike didn't see how else that sensitive subject would be broached. Besides, he was a curious creature, and the vampire in him was very much less inhibited than his human counterpart.

Turning from him, she looked back up at the ceiling, "No, he was not the reason. Well… I am not certain. I heard the call and I answered. I just found the thought of having to marry… someone loveless… horrid. He never let me leave the manor until I chose the church. I suppose a life serving God appealed to me because I chose it. I was happy with my chosen life. It was to be a fulfilling one," she said with a sigh.

At the sound of her remark of 'having to marry someone loveless', Spike recalled one of the darker moments in his living life- Cecily rejecting his love. "'Horrid'? Would that make him beneath you?" he scoffed, still feeling bitter remnants of that memory. He reminded himself though, that that night was also the best thing to ever happen to him- meeting Drusilla and having her make him into the thing he was meant to be.

Elizabeth looked to him, "No, not at all. The idea that I would have to marry, would be something loveless. Father always had his eyes set on someone wealthy, someone he said would be worthy of me. To me, it would be the same as… what Angelus had… almost done," she said a little more quietly. "No one is above anyone," she said simply. Spike listened to her explanation with a more reasonable mindset, but he still scathed from his first love's words. He glanced to her as she made her comparison, thinking, there was hardly anything to compare to the magnitude of what Angelus could do and had done.

After a short moment of deliberation, Elizabeth looked to him, "Did you… have any dreams before you became…"

"A vampire?" They had never said what they truly were till that moment when Spike uttered that one word. She might have understood what she had become, but now that it was given a name, it was all the more real.

Spike paused. At the sound of her question, he was reminded once again of the life of ridicule he had growing up. "I aspired to be a poet," he said plainly, the title of 'William the Bloody' lingering in his afterthoughts. He was silent as he stared at the ceiling, not bothering to elaborate. She could take it whichever way she wished; he was now a force to be reckoned with, not some shell of a man who could be pushed around by the mere pressure of a fly's wing. He had a reputation to uphold, and now a progeny that appeared to look up to him.

"A poet?" she said with interest in her voice. "I read small collections when I can; I did not socialize often so I read books. Poetry was always so interesting to me. They were like… paintings with words," she said as she peered up at the ceiling.

"Words to me were like paint- the pen as my brush, paper as my canvas," he replied, staring vacantly at the darkness above him. He remembered all too well the quaint mannerisms of William. It was unfortunate that although he had the passion for words, he could not deliver them as a true poet could. Why he bothered to share these details of his life with Elizabeth, he did not know. He was weary from all that had happened in the past few days and his sluggish brain didn't allow him to think straight. That was possibly the best reason he could come up with.

Elizabeth nodded. "Perhaps you should write again when we settle down. France is so beautiful. I am sure there will be many things to write about there," she said kindly, her voice drawing a more tired tone to it, her head slightly falling to one side as she grew sleepier.

Spike did not respond, but instead, closed his eyes as he let sleep drift over him.

She was kind to him and sounded as though she was genuinely interested in where his passions lay. It reminded him of his mother, so sweet and kind, giving him kisses when he was near, listening quietly and attentively as he recited his poetry as he sat by her side. Then he saw the image of her demon face, taunting him, saying how useless he was, and he staked her in the heart.

He woke with a start as he sat up in an unfamiliar environment, the drapes falling down to his lap. The sound of the straw shuffling beneath him reminded him that he and Elizabeth had taken refuge in a barn. He had no idea how long he had slept, but it was now nightfall, and he was hungry. Casting the draperies aside, Spike stood and brushed off the small bits of straw that had clung to his clothes and hair. His body still ached from the pub fight; the wound on his lower back a dull throbbing reminder of his past grievances. Climbing down the ladder, he slipped out into the night to feed.

┼†‡

Elizabeth slept in a semi peaceful and dreamless state before waking up in the loft alone. They were in the middle of the countryside with not many people around for miles and she was hungry. Thinking against leaving to hunt alone, she snagged a rat and made short work of it. She climbed down the ladder and stepped out to stand underneath the moonlight. Her mind wandered as she thought how drastically her life had changed in just a few days' time. Not straying far from the barn, she stopped and sat down in a field of wild grass to look up at the stars. Perhaps this new life would give her the freedom she so wanted.

┼†‡

Spike had gone to the train station to pick off a passenger to feast on. Finding a posh man with a similar build as his, he dragged him from the platform to a dark corner, devoured and killed him, and took his coat. Standing there as the trains whistled and churned by, Spike was tempted to jump on one in search for Drusilla, but felt a discordant pull within his chest. Although he was now sire to a fledgling, he had no moral obligation to stay with her; he had the freedom to leave as he wished, with or without Elizabeth's acknowledgement- he was a bloody vampire for crying out loud, the epitome of evil!

Spike stood in the middle of the platform, now donning the dead man's long grey coat, his brown one having been torn and left behind in the house he briefly considered a home, which no doubt, had probably now been reduced to ashes. The whistle alerted of a train pulling in, and as it slowed to a stop, the doors opened and a flood of people vacated the trolleys. The carts soon filled with the bodies that were waiting on the shared platform where he idled. He stood there frozen, watching men and women as they got in, wanting to move with the current of their feet. But he stood in his place, recalling the conversation he and Elizabeth had had, how they would travel to France and Italy together.

"Bloody hell," he cursed under his breath through clenched teeth as he turned to go back to his awaiting progeny.

┼†‡

Upon returning, he found her outside looking up at the sky. "Dru used to do that; she loved watching the stars," he commented, using her in the past tense as she was no longer with them in a physical sense.

Elizabeth turned to him from where she sat, "I always liked them. Father had this star map in his study. I would take it to my balcony and try to find the constellations." It was apparent that most of her life was lived within her manor, in her room with little company.

Spike walked towards her, his new coat unbuttoned, clean and blood-free, only to cover the dirty and torn shirt underneath, "Have you fed?" he asked.

Standing to her feet, Elizabeth nodded, "A rat. The thing was the size of a cat," she said, shaking a bit. "I figured it was not wise to venture off alone," she said as she turned to him.

Spike gave a nod, understanding one had to take whatever they could in a pinch. He personally didn't like the taste of vermin, but he supposed it was an acquired taste. It dawned on him how truly alone they were- Elizabeth had no one else to turn to, being shuttled into this dark new world, and he had literally been abandoned in his nest. For now he would find companionship with her, till he found another more suitable to his liking.

"Smart of you to wait," he agreed. "I came upon some inns across the tracks. Lots of travellers coming in and out," the barn was good in that it was isolated, but Spike could not thrive in an environment where there were no people. "Thought we could relocate there," he suggested. Seeing as they were on the edge of town, there was a slim chance they could be tracked down if the townspeople had not bothered to give up.

The young vampire nodded and looked back at the barn, "Much better than sleeping on straw," she agreed as she walked to him. "We can take a train when the time is right," she suggested. She was actually looking forward to them traveling across Europe together. His talk of adventure and freedom appealed to her more and more as she thought about it.

A pleased smile spread across Spike's face, "Yes, we shall," he said, resisting the urge to say that tonight would be it. He would have to do some careful planning before jumping ship.

Elizabeth found Spike strange- rough and rude, but still protective in his own way. Whether it was their connection or that this rough exterior was all a facade, she did not know. It was apparent, however, that this strange duo somehow fit together.

┼†‡

As Spike led her to the inns, he kept back as he observed the patrons that entered and exited the doors. He spotted a woman in a ruffled yellow dress with a matching bonnet and curls flowing down her back. Then, he glanced to Elizabeth- dull in comparison with her drab colours.

"Seems to be about your size." He turned back to watch the woman, "Would they be a nice choice?" They had nothing but the clothes on their backs, so Spike only thought it proper to take Elizabeth clothes shopping.

Elizabeth looked at the woman as the dress made her smile, but she shook her head a bit. What was she thinking? Killing a woman and taking her clothes? Well, the rat was not a lot… she rationalized. Giving into the thought, she nodded, "It would be."

"Another lesson, love, 'the art of seduction'," Spike smirked as he walked forward towards his target. He let Elizabeth watch as he approached the woman with a beguiling smile on his lips. It appeared that he spoke to her words of flattery, then, he took her hand to give a kiss; she seemed to take to this with a giggle and blushing cheeks. Offering his arm out for her to take, she complied by weaving her hands around it. Soon, they had stepped out and walked around the bend of the building and were out of sight. It all looked so easy, how he smiled at her, seeming like a handsome young man, romantic, and kind. The same charm that made Elizabeth feel safe upon her first meeting him.

Elizabeth's blood ran cold as she watched the scene play out.

There came a muffled cry that could only be heard with ears of superior sense. Spike gave the woman a swift and clean kill, ensuring that she didn't bleed on her pretty dress. Preventing it from getting dirty from the ground, he held her up as he waited for Elizabeth to catch up.

Elizabeth followed where they had disappeared to, turning the corner to see Spike holding the dead woman up like a puppet. If she didn't have such a hold on her old morality, she would have considered this a kind gesture.

"Well, don't just stand there gaping like a fool," Spike began to unlace the dead woman's dress, his fingers working with expertise, "get undressed." The darkness was a good enough curtain to veil their doings, just as long as no one happened to turn down that corner to take a shortcut.

Elizabeth glanced around as she wondered where she could change. Seeing that Spike was preoccupied, she took a couple steps behind him to undo her dress. She blushed as she pulled it off. Though she wasn't naked, her modesty got the better of her as she pressed the dress to her body.

Spike had the dress free from the woman's form in a manner of minutes, quick to snatch the hat from her head before she fell, taking along with it some of her hair. He untangled the strands from it as he shifted the dress over his arm. From the way he moved, one could tell this was not his first time with unlacing a dress, whether it was on a living or dead person was up to speculation. He looked at Elizabeth to see how far she was coming along.

Elizabeth rushed back to Spike and gave him a shy look before taking the lovely garment from him. This time, she ventured farther into the shadows to where she felt he could not see her.

It had been so long, it seemed, that Spike had been swept up in the wildness of the vampire life, that he'd often forget about- or rather didn't care for- modesty. He rolled his eyes and turned around to give Elizabeth some more privacy, even though he was very familiar with the female form.

Kicking the old and dirty dress aside, Elizabeth put on the yellow one to find that it fit. She pulled at the laces, ensuring a snugger fit, then let her hair down. With a soft sigh, she walked back to Spike.

As he heard the shuffling sound of the dress approaching, he began to turn, "Am I allowed to look now? Oh," he said, as he watched Elizabeth retreat from the shadows. Taking the bonnet from him, she put it on and smiled a little in silent gratitude. It was quite a flattering look on her. His eyes again gave a pass over her figure, "'Tis a proper fit, indeed." Elizabeth blushed and straightened out a few wrinkles in the fabric. Spike gave her a smile to match hers and offered his arm for her to take, "Shall we?"

Unused to the fit of the dress and to the attention, Elizabeth maintained her small smile and took her sire's arm with a polite nod. She walked with him, looking around the street at the hustle and bustle of travellers caught up in their own schedules to notice them.

Compared to the city, that edge of town was a quiet one. There wasn't much for entertainment save for a whorehouse and one main tavern. One would have to venture farther inward away from the tracks if they wanted to see operas and other more refined forms of entertainment. For now, Spike confined himself to that area, taking comfort in knowing that the vast majority of persons there were travellers, which would be easy for them to be displaced and not have locals being suspicious.

┼†‡

Spike entered the inn with Elizabeth in tow, their arms still linked as though they were a couple.

"Good evening, sir and madam," the innkeeper, an older man with salt and pepper hair and mustache, greeted them from behind the counter.

"Are there any vacancies available? We would like a room," Spike said, glancing to Elizabeth and patting her hand that was linked around his arm.

Adjusting his spectacles, the innkeeper looked down at his book, "Ah, yes, we do." Looking up, he paused to stare at Elizabeth, "I'm sorry, madam, but haven't you already checked in?" his eyes lowered to observe her dress. He then looked to Spike, a man that didn't quite appear as though he matched with the clean coat he wore with the dirty shirt.

"I assure you, she has not," Spike replied. "We've just arrived together," he smiled.

"I swear, there was a young woman who came in not hours before who wore the exact shade of yellow- bonnet and all," the innkeeper's brows knitted together with confusion, determined what he had seen was not an illusion. Elizabeth's breath hitched a bit.

"It is not uncommon to mistake a yellow dress with another yellow dress," Spike replied. "When it comes to women's fashion, I see no difference save for the colour," he chuckled lightly.

"Yes," the innkeeper joined in his laughter, "right you are," he said, looking a bit relieved. The innkeeper set a guest book down in front of Spike and offered him a pen before turning the book around after he had finished scribbling down their names. "'Mister and missus William and Elizabeth Pratt'," the innkeeper read; Elizabeth blushed at this, "do you have any luggage?" He glanced up at them, getting his keys ready as he noticed them holding nothing.

"No, we're waiting for it to arrive. It is just the two of us," Spike gave him a nod.

"Ah, yes, I see," the innkeeper replied, a tiny glint of unease in his eye. "Please, allow me to show you to your room," he said while coming around the counter.

As they were led up a narrow staircase, the young vampire could not help but blush at the idea that her sire had signed them in as husband and wife.

Once upstairs, they were met with a short hallway with three doors aligning each side. The innkeeper pulled out a ring of keys and inserted one into the first door on the right then swung it open for them. It was a small room with bare wooden floors, a cot in the centre, with a nightstand next to it. On the other side of the bed was a small desk and chair, situated beneath a tiny window that was covered in frilly lace drapes; against the wall opposite to the window was a wardrobe.

"Bring up a basin of hot water and soap," it had been a couple days since Spike had bathed since the fights and fires had started, and he sorely desired to get clean. "Don't bother coming up to fetch it later. We don't wish to be disturbed during the morning," Spike instructed, pulling a large tip from his waist pocket left behind from the previous coat owner.

"Yes, right away, sir!" the innkeeper pocketed the money, his nervousness now disappearing at the sight of cash. Spike closed the door and lit the oil lantern that sat on the entry table next to the door. There wasn't much to see in there, as everything was in plain view- a room simple and adequate, used for the purpose of frequent travellers.

Spike removed his coat and draped it over the back of the chair, untucking the shambles of what remained of his shirt- dirt streaked with dried and encrusted blood on the back where there bore a hole where he was stricken.

He returned to the door when he heard the voices of two men from downstairs. He opened it ajar to listen better.

"My daughter was to meet me here. It was arranged that she would arrive before me."

"Yes, it says she has checked in, sir," the innkeeper replied. "She stepped out, but has yet to return. I can show you to her room if you wish to see it."

"Show me," the anxious father commanded.

Spike eased the door shut to a sliver, peeking out as the man in question and innkeeper walked by to a room farther down. The sound of keys jingling were followed shortly by a door opening.

"Yes, these are her belongings," the father stated, "but good heavens, where could the girl be?"

"I'm sure she'll return in due time, sir. There isn't much for a young lady here."

"She always was a curious wanderer. Never one to stand still in one place," the father huffed.

"Shall I show you to your room now, sir?"

"Yes," the man sighed. He was shown to the room next to hers, and across from Spike and Elizabeth's.

"Thank you," he said, tipping the man.

"Anything else, sir?"

"No, that'll be all," he replied.

The innkeeper turned around to knock on Spike's door when it opened. He looked at Spike in surprise, "Oh, sir, your hot water," he held within his hands a jug and basin, and a set of towels over his forearm. Spike stepped aside to allow the man to set the things down onto the entry table. Glancing around nervously, the man looked to Spike, then Elizabeth, "Well, good evening to the both of you," and left a little too eagerly.

Spike did not close the door after that, instead, he stepped out and knocked on his neighbour's door.

"I said I didn't need anything," the man answered from inside, opening it to see not the innkeeper, but a man in a dingy shirt. "Oh, my apologies, I believed you to be the innkeeper."

"I couldn't help but overhearing about your daughter," Spike began.

"Verity, do you know where she is?"

"I do," Spike replied. Taking a step in, he smiled, "I can take you to her." The door was shut rapidly and a sound of fluttering shoes could be heard, followed by silence.

┼†‡

Hearing the girl's father question and worry about his daughter made Elizabeth feel sympathy for him, reminding her that her own father must be heartbroken since her disappearance. It made her feel a strange sense of mercy when her sire left to kill him as well.

┼†‡

Spike returned to his shared room with a clean change of shirt and trousers over his arm, and luggage in both hands. He shut the door with his foot and dumped the bags down on the centre of the floor, then tossed the clothes onto the bed.

"Had to get a new outfit; mine are in shambles." He began to shirk his top off, "You've got an entire new set yourself," he added, indicating he'd also taken the daughter's clothes, the same woman they had killed and stolen from earlier that night. Elizabeth looked through her new clothes and nodded in approval as she folded them back up and secured them in her suitcase.

Going to the entry table where the basin and steaming water waited, Spike stripped down naked, with only the glow of the lantern to bathe his skin. Elizabeth's eyes widened at this, as a blush coloured her cheeks. She quickly averted her gaze and rushed to the window to look outside. Spike continued as he poured some of the water into the basin and wet his cleaning towel, wringing it out a little before bringing it to his face, arms, and body. He turned to inspect his lower back where he was wounded, now seeing that a puckered and round scar remained. It was still a bit pink and sore, but it was no longer a gaping wound, which was a good thing. He scrubbed off the dirt and encrusted blood that had managed to cling to him, lathered himself with soap, and wiped himself off with the dampened towel.

"There's more water if you'd like to clean up," Spike turned to Elizabeth as he dried himself, rubbing a dry towel over his arms. He sat naked on top of the bed as he began to dress, not concerned with how uncomfortable it might have made Elizabeth feel.

"T-thank you," she said. Elizabeth carried the water and basin to the wardrobe, as she washed behind the opened wardrobe doors in an attempt to cover herself.

"He had a pair of train tickets," Spike stated, now appropriately clothed in a clean shirt and pants, "We shall set out tomorrow evening," he withdrew the tickets from the pocket from his trousers and set them on the desk. Seeing the tickets, Elizabeth gave a hopeful smile that their adventure would begin soon.

"It shouldn't be long before their bodies are discovered," Spike lay back on the bed and tucked his arms beneath his head.

Emerging in her dress slip, Elizabeth lay in bed next to him.

This was coming together nicely for the vampire. It might not have been the ideal destination he wanted, but it was closer to wherever Drusilla might be.

Spike turned away from Elizabeth in the bed that they shared.

With a small barrier of blankets between them for her comfort, Elizabeth closed her eyes, and fell asleep to rest up for the journey ahead.