You know the feeling when you wake up and don't want to move because everything is too comfortable, that was me this morning. I had the strangest dream and I didn't really want to forget it just yet. I normally didn't dream of anything in particular but this time Flemeth was there. I got pushed out a window and then drowned.

Hey, I never said it was a pleasant dream, just unusual.

But the longer I stayed there the more the outside world poked into my consciousness. I couldn't hear the sound of the air conditioner or the general bustle of the city below. Everything about the sheets was wrong. I slept under like seven blankets that were heavy enough to suffocate a small child, but I was under some sort of sheet and nothing else. I normally slept in a simple t-shirt, and a pair of panties, however as I pulled back the sheet covering me, I could see that I was now wearing what I could only describe as a frilly white nightmare.

The long white layered nightgown made me look like some sort of virgin sacrifice. The light pink ribbons down the front and around the cuffs giving me a baby doll feel. I may love looking as feminine as possible but the aforementioned virgin sacrifice feel was weirding me out.

The room was entirely dark, I couldn't find a lightswitch anywhere. I quick peek under the heavy drapes showed that it was the middle of the night outside.

Everything about this place was wrong, there were no lights or cars outside, it was some sort of square, like I was in one of those cities that preserved their history.

I took a deep breath in and quickly exhaled.

Even the air is wrong here.

A few cautious steps forward and a stumble over the slightly too long hem of the nightgown, I made it out into the hall. It opened up to a view of the downstairs area

I paused, did I really want to do this, did I want to risk angering whoever had brought me here? It appeared the decision was made for me, because I could hear the heavy footfalls of someone on the tile floor and panicked.

I tried to backup, to retreat into the room I had came from, but tripped over the nightgown and banged my head on the floor, causing a clatter that caught the mystery person's attention.

The footsteps accelerated and before I knew it, I was looking up into the face of one Marian Hawke.

I screamed. I wasn't proud of it but I screamed like a child at someone who only wanted to help me up.

That is a first impression I'll never live down.

To her credit, she was calm, and, once I stopped shrieking, more than willing to help me up. Everything felt real, from the calloused texture of her hands to the the pain now radiating along my side.

I didn't want to believe it. It couldn't possibly be real. But my brain was nagging me with that feeling that this was right, I didn't have the words to explain the feeling but it had helped me make choices before. I wanted to trust it. Either way, I needed to be calm now, I could freak the fuck out later.

"What-"

I cut myself off, voice croaking from disuse. Clearing my throat I tried again.

"What happened to me? How did I get here?"

"You washed up on the wounded coast, my friends and I found you while we were out. I know a healer who helped you, but he couldn't keep you in his clinic. I offered."

"Why? You could have easily let me die"

"That's not what I'm about, I don't let people die for no reason."

Her eyes flickered up and down my face, betraying her lie, halting on the golden chain that peeked out under my collar.

What did she see in me? Did I remind her of someone?

I shook my head banishing the thoughts to be considered later. She was lying about her reasons for bringing me into her home and I was going to have to lie about my past.

Whatever happened next, I had to pull this next lie off. It would essentially be the difference between life and death

That's a little dramatic don't you think

Shut up, me. This world is different and I will probably die if I get kicked out.

"Well, you've cause plenty a ruckus and I'm far too tired to continue this discussion, so how about I escort of back to your room and we continue this discussion in the morning."

It wasn't a choice or an offer. It was simply an order, and I didn't have the energy to argue. Hawke led me to my room, the tapping of her shoes contrasting with the pattering of my bare feet.

The door was still ajar from when I left and Hawke pushed it all the way open, giving me room to enter. She shut the door behind me, and I swore I heard her murmur something but I couldn't make out the words.

I hadn't realized how tired I was until I layed down on the bed and felt the fatigue finally creep into my head. The mattress was actually quite soft and it wasn't hard to fall asleep, since I was left with nothing but the thoughts I wouldn't let myself think.

The next morning came upon me slowly, with nothing more than light peeking through the drapes. I could feel the oddly soft texture of the bedding and last night hit me like a train. My tired brain had blocked out most of the encounter. I was desperately trying to remember what I had let slip, if anything at all.

I decided that there was no point chasing memories I didn't had I went to take a better look around the room. It was barely furnished, with only a bed, dresser, and closet. The light that awoke me was from the one drape that I pushed open last night.

One final look showed some clothes folded and sitting on the dresser, with a pair of boots on the floor in front of them. I walked over to find a note folded on top of the clothes, which appeared to be a red blouse with lacing down the front and a pair of brown pants made of some form of fabric that wasn't quite cotton.

The boots were leather and went halfway up my calf before folding over. All in all the outfit looked comfortable as was around, but I wasn't sure how well the clothes would fit. I carefully unfolded the note and found it was from Hawke.

I hope the clothes fit, I took my best guess. I do hope you'll join me for lunch today, I was intrigued by our discussion last night

M. Hawke

I surveyed my own outfit and decided I was ready to be out of this frilly white monstrosity, even if it meant ill-fitting clothes instead.

Undoing the ribbon on the front, it slipped off my shoulders and pooled around my feet. Glad to find I was still in my bra and panties, and grabbed the blouse off the top of the stack. It followed a similar pattern as the nightgown where you laced it up so it sat comfortably on your shoulders.

The pants had a similar comfortable fit, and I had to wonder who's clothes I was wearing. The boots were a little large, but not so big that they flopped around. I was able to comfortably wear most of the attire, and actually thought I looked pretty good.

My hair was tangled and I couldn't find anything resembling a brush, so I attempted to comb it out with my fingers. I wasn't happy with the tangled waves but it didn't look like a rats nest anymore.

I braced myself, afraid I would mess everything up, and left the quiet of my bedroom.