After the big dinner, she had drunk quite a bit, her words slightly slurring as she took the sixth cup of wine. Leaning back, even in her state of condition, her hands placed over her belly—which to Gabranth seemed very flat for a young female hume who had just consumed part of the meal---and started to rub it fondly.
"Mmm," she grinned, eyes parted, slightly dazed, "I'm so full."
Ashelia leaned forward quickly, stumbling a little, and grabbed the cup, sloshing the blue-berry contents onto the table, "You know what, Judge?"
"What?"
"I despise you." She mumbled, slurring, "I dislike the smell of this place." Her eyes slyly looked around, mouth pouting, "and worse! I hate being this way."
She dropped her head down, her hair obscuring her profile, "I can't stand acting the way I do, always saying nasty retorts at you," she sniffed, "I'm so – tired."
Her head nodded off, limbs weak with no muscle movement, sloppily falling over until the side of her face hit the harsh table.
Gabranth heaved a heavy sigh. Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca could not hold down her wine.
Fibes walked over to grab the remaining plates that were set aside, "Psst, your lady looks like she may need to retire soon."
"You said something about a room?" Gabranth looked at Fibes, seeing the wide grin there and frowned at the owner, "Nay, I'm not taking advantage of the princess, so I'd get your head out of that thought."
"I knew you would be too honourable to do something like that, but if that were me and I had a pretty piece –.." Fibes stopped himself because the glare he received from Gabranth was not very nice.
"Just saying." Fibes shrugged his burly arms, "The room's small with one bed, you'll have to go and bring her to the far end of the hall upstairs. Go ahead, carry her up there, I won't tell." And gave Gabranth one last wink.
Gabranth leaned over, placing his hands over his eyes for a moment, sighing, "This is just great."
He picked up her lifeless body, her head lolled over to the side until she cradled herself against his shoulder, arms flung out. Bringing his hand under her knees and lifting her back up against his chest, he treaded the stairs, passed the leering looks of seeqs and noisy guffaws of bangaas.
When he reached the far end of the room, he kicked open the door, and found that the small bed was set against the window. The tiny chamber held only one night stand with a candle atop, next to it was the bed which was, to him too tiny.
Well, he mused softly, he will have to leave her here while she slept, and come back for her tomorrow morning. He was sure Fibes would be able to watch out for her. When he dropped her body down she murmured something unintelligible.
"What's that, Lady Ashe?"
"Gabranth…"
"Yes, I'm here."
He sat down on the edge, dipping the bed, and her arms flung out, bringing him close.
She whispered against him, "I feel sick."
"What's wrong?"
"I'm going to…"
"Hmm?"
"I am going to –.." She coughed, throwing herself off him and leaned over to the side of the bed, holding her stomach. Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca unleashed most of her dinner onto the floor, decorating it with the contents of her smashed and chewed meal.
Gabranth groaned, rolled his eyes, "Oh gods!"
"Help!" she croaked, still trying to cough up more food, "Gabranth, you bastard."
"Now what?" He sighed, pulling her up, "All right, all right, lay down. I have to clean up your mess."
She groaned; the back of her hand over her forehead-- the sign of sweat shiny on her skin, "that wine, it's disgusting. Something I ate, oh gods, did I get food poisoned?" Her eyes fluttered open and closed, "Gabranth I hold you responsible."
"Aye, I know. I'm the bane of your existence, tell me what else I don't know," Gabranth grumbled irritably, going into the small room which held the toilet and grabbed the ragged towels there. They were small, but at least he could manage to wipe most of the food contents off the floor. He wanted to wrinkle his nose from the offending smell.
"I'm still trying to get over the fact that I'm cleaning after you, Princess. You're high maintenance, as well. Definitely not my type."
She was groaning on the bed, her hand covering her face, "never have I been subjected to such humiliation!"
"It's not that bad, people drink themselves to the point of emptying their stomachs. You're not the first, Princess."
Ashelia managed to sit up groggily, her hair a mess around her face, strands of light-mousy pale hair sticking to her blushing cheeks, "I have never had that happened to me before."
"Trust me, Lady Ashe, it's not so bad." He walked into the toilet room and closed the door, finding himself in front of her again, where she stared up at him with watery eyes.
She fell back onto the bed, "the world is still spinning." moaning, "I knew that drinking could cause this, but I thought since I ate so much."
"Relax, you just need some rest."
She grabbed his arm, "You cannot leave until I am well."
This sounded like an order and he raised his brow, "Oh really?"
"You bastard, how dare you try and leave me, in this establishment, where they poison their customers, alone." She mumbled, her words slightly slurred.
"All right, I'll stay with you, but you must promise me one thing."
"Mmmm." Ashelia half opened eyes were glistening with wet tears, not from sorrow, but from perhaps, through the effects of her unwell state.
"Don't call me bastard."
She gazed at him, a soft look through her fluttering lashes, "I promise."
And she closed her eyes, her hand over the flat of her stomach, and the other over her forehead.
Gabranth sat down, for there was no other chair in the room, and the floor had just been decorated by her disposal. He reached over, opened the window to allow the wind to air the room out.
He waited until she breathed deep, indicating that she was fast asleep. Gabranth reached for the sheet in which she was lying on, pulling it from under her body, so he may place it over her. When he jostled her frame a little, she moaned audibly, her arm flung out, capturing his shirt chest, bunching it up into a fist, "don't leave, please."
She was partly moaning, sleeping, dazedly afraid, and Gabranth felt a tightening in his chest. Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca was so young—a princess who had lost her kingdom, her husband and through him, her father. How could he not feel her trauma? Her aching lonliness? Aye, he knew how that must feel like. But he had steely placed his own heart away, for that was easier for him, as he willed it for years. Whilst she--she was still so fresh to the spoils of a war torn world. He reached up to place a hand over her fist where she clenched it over his shirt.
A lone tear fell out from the corner of her eye, glistening under moonlit night, where the open window allowed some shadow.
"I won't, Daughter of Dalmasca. I'll be here."
Her fist relaxed as if she heard, her lips moved a little, moaning softly.
This was, by far one of the most difficult nights Gabranth would ever face.
to be continued-
