A/N: Right! Once again, sorry for the delay! At the moment, I'm at my friend's house about 1000 kilometres away from my home, and she's playing StarCraft with her brother.. (yaaaay -_-') so, I found a perfect opportunity to finish the chapter! (Who knows, maybe I'll have time to finish the next chapter before she's done? ._.)
Anyway, here's chapter 21!
Enjoy!
The Sorceress and the Sharpshooter
Chapter Twenty-One
A Queen Returns
A falcon had arrived that morning, carrying news of the Queen's return. The castle had been set in a frenzy, and the servants were running amok, tidying up and planning for the Queen's arrival in the Imperial City. The citizens were planning a welcoming feast for their Queen, and despite the hardship that waited the Kingdom of Albion, the people of the capital were momentarily happy.
Logan stood leaning against the railings on the upper balcony, staring out towards the ocean, tears gleaming in his eyes, wanting to see nothing but white sails on the horizon, bringing his beloved sister, and the land's salvation. The treasury was far from filled, despite the deposits the Nobles had made. Even some of the citizens around the kingdom had started to send some of their wages every month to show their support, and still, it wasn't even close to enough to pay for weapons and armours. Walter was getting worse, and had turned to screaming at nights, and thus Logan had trouble sleeping, and it started to show more than ever. He felt as if the world lay heavier on his shoulders now than it ever had while he was King. The only thing that made the darkness look just a bit brighter was the fact that Page was there by his side, and with her stern will and determination she had lifted the city and kept the faith of the people. Even though Andrea had done things before she disappeared that Page didn't approve of, she didn't hold any grudge and seemed to understand why the Queen had made the decisions she had made.
Still, Logan couldn't be happier that his sister was finally coming home.
Steps hit the ground behind him, and he could feel the sweet smell of lilies filled his nostrils, and he sighed heavily. "There are no words in the world sufficient to describe the feelings I hold," he said softly.
Page put a hand on his. "We've always known she was alive."
He shook his head and turned to her. "But where has she been?"
"I don't know."
"She's been gone five months!" He started to almost panic. "I—I—what am I supposed to do? Is she expecting something from me? Am I supposed to do something special? Am I—"
Page chuckled and put her hands on either side of his face and looked into his eyes. "You have done enough, Logan. You have done more than expected. Who would have thought you'd run the country better when you're not in charge?" The kiss wasn't fully unexpected, they had danced around each other for a while now, and as her full lips separated from his, he sighed and held her one hand in place on his face, caressing it carefully, as the tears in his eyes started to fall.
"Don't leave me, Page," he pleaded. "Don't leave my side."
She smiled. "I'll be here."
.:*Ö*:.
Saying goodbye to the Ch'cja tribe was probably one of the hardest things Andrea had ever done. Loki was strong, as always, and wished her good luck, and despite objections from Ben, Andrea hugged the wolfman again, and lingered, and before the hug had become too intimate, Ben had made sure to separate the two. June cried and clung to Andrea's neck as if it would be the last time they ever saw each other, and Andrea had decided it was not. Pana stayed strong, even though tears were building in her eyes. Andrea had asked her to come to Bowerstone to be her lady-in-waiting when the Darkness was defeated, and Pana had happily accepted, though that would have to wait. But of all goodbyes, it was Darius Andrea felt it hardest to separate from. But he smiled and told her that they would see each other sooner than they'd expected. Andrea believed him. And just before they said their final goodbyes, he handed over a small leather pouch to her.
"Give this to Walter when you get back," he had told her. "Dreams are never to be taken lightly."
Andrea promised to do as told, without questioning what the pouch contained.
When it was time to leave the forest of Deepwood, the Queen couldn't hold back the tears, and she promised herself and the forest never to spoil it. It would forever hold a special place in her heart, as would its people.
The ride back to Bloodstone had been longer than she'd expected, and when they reached Wraithmarsh, they continued on the Queen's demand, even though darkness had fallen, and even though both Ben and Victor objected. While Andrea was carried by horseback all the way, Ben and Victor took turns on the other horse, with Bernard walking between the horses. Andrea kept a fire running alongside them all the way through Wraithmarsh, keeping away creatures of the night and bringing them safely back to Bloodstone, where the Queen was welcomed with food, drink and warm fires. But already, Andrea missed her friends in Deepwood.
That night, Andrea didn't sleep. The festivities ended when she went to bed, even though she had expected them to continue until late morning, and as she left the assembly hall, she heard Victor shout commands to the thugs and pirates turned soldiers, and to her surprise, their response to orders were rather positive. Ben had offered himself to accompany her to bed, very innocently and purely for the company, but Andrea had graciously turned him down, saying she needed time to think and to mentally prepare herself for meeting her people back in Bowerstone. So as she lay in her bed, with Bernard at her feet, she couldn't sleep. Too many thoughts ran through her head. She thought of Page, of how angry she must be at her, and she thought of Walter, of how disappointed he must be. She thought of Logan, of how worried he must be, and she thought of the people, of how confused they must be. But most of all, she thought of Ben. And of Elliot. Ben had told her he loved her. She had heard it, loud and clear, though she didn't know whether or not she wanted to. She was engaged to Elliot, with every intention of marrying him, because frankly, Ben was right. She couldn't do this alone. But did she love Elliot? No, she did not. She loved Ben. But he didn't want to marry her. He thought it would ruin her to be with him, so instead, in change of them having a relationship this year before the Darkness, Andrea was to marry Elliot, and secure the people's love and affection, and retain her good reputation as Queen. But could she really live in a lie? Or more importantly, could she live with the thought that Ben might find someone else than her? Could she live with the thought that some other woman might be the one in Ben's arms? The longer she thought of it, the more impossible it seemed, and eventually, she couldn't stand herself, and she rose from her bed and snuck out, without waking the dog, into the dark of the night. She snuck past the night guards, and towards Ben's hut, where she carefully opened the door and tip-toed to his bed. He was sleeping deeply, and she nudged him lightly. "Ben?"
He didn't move.
"Ben?" She nudged him a bit harder.
"What?" he cried and sat up.
"It's just me," Andrea squealed.
Ben relaxed. "Princess," he yawned. "What's the matter? Something wrong?"
Andrea could keep it in, and burst into tears. "Just hold me, Ben!"
Without hesitation, he reached his arms out and pulled her into his safe embrace and pulled the covers over them both and cradled her while her salty tears fell down her cheeks.
"I love you," she sobbed against his chest.
"I love you too," he murmured into her hair.
For a long time, none of them spoke, and Andrea was afraid he had fallen asleep again, since his breathing was so calm and constant, but as she had stopped sobbing, his soft voice broke the silence, "Are you afraid of what will happen when we get back? Of what will happen when the Darkness comes?"
Andrea shook her head.
"Then what's wrong, lovely?"
"I'm afraid of what will happen after the Darkness has come," she whispered.
He shifted awkwardly by her side and then rose and to support himself on his elbow. "What do you mean?"
Andrea shook her head. "Let's say we defeat the Darkness… then what?"
Ben shrugged. "Then we get on with our lives."
She looked at him, and even through the darkness, his blue eyes illuminated his face, and made her heart ache. "A life without you?"
He sighed and closed his eyes as he fell back on the mattress beside her. "Andrea, don't."
"But how can you—"
"I said, don't!" Ben growled and sat up.
Andrea sat up, too, now more angry than upset. "You said you loved me! Was that a lie?"
"No, but—"
"But what?" Andrea spat.
"But, you're marrying Elliot!" Ben said and rose from the bed. "We had a deal, Andrea!"
"I can't marry Elliot, you dimwit!" she cried. "I want you!"
"That can never happen," he muttered and put his hands on his hips.
Andrea rose, too, far too upset to care if anyone would hear her. "You… you! You are a scumbag, Benjamin Finn! Here I am, giving my heart to you, and you… you…" She tried to find the right words, but couldn't seem to get over how angry she was at him. "Did you really think that you could just flex your muscles a bit, and… and use me like this? I am the Queen of Albion, god damn it!"
"And there she is," Ben said through gritted teeth, "the spoiled little girl who thinks she owns the world."
Andrea stood speechless. So, they were back to where they left off before she disappeared. So nothing had really changed, then? He still thought of her as a spoiled brat. Perhaps she should have stayed in Deepwood, with Loki, and just forgotten all about Albion and the Darkness, and Ben!
"Did you really think you could go through life, getting exactly everything you want, just because you happen to be royalty?" Ben spat.
Andrea growled as she strode towards the door, but Ben grabbed her by the hand.
"We're not finished," he growled.
"Let go!" Andrea growled and let fire engulf her hand, as well as Ben's, and he pulled it away with a painful groan.
"Are you insane?"
But Andrea left the hut before she did something worse, and marched back to her own quarters, ignoring the guard asking his ladyship if everything was alright. Bernard woke up as she slammed the door shut, but Andrea didn't care, and threw herself angrily onto her bed and jerked the cover over her. Oh, she would definitely not sleep after this.
.:*Ö*:.
"She's coming back," Walter whispered to himself, and a tear of relief rolled from his sleepless eyes and landed on the floor by his feet. He couldn't fully understand how happy he was that finally, after all these months, she was coming back! Finally, hope had arrived.
But not everybody agreed.
"The Dark Guardian shall come and protect us," the shadow behind him wheezed. "All that is flesh and light shall die!"
"SHUT UP!" Walter roared at the top of his lungs, and took a swing towards the shadow, but it was already gone. But the fading sound of its laughter still echoed around him, and he had to cover his ears and curl up like a baby on the bed while sobbing like a child. "Please, Andrea," he whispered. "Please, relieve me from my misery!" He closed his eyes, but the second he did so, horrible images of him murdering his little Andrea played across his vision, and he flung them open. "Stop it!" he begged, voice breaking. "STOP IT!"
But it was too late. He had invited the Children to play, and they were now attacking him with images, impulses and memories he did not want, and as he was once again faced by his beloved Sparrow, dead and weathering, and no matter how many times he closed and reopened his eyes, she was still there, he screamed.
She grabbed him, clawed him with her bony fingers, and wheezed in a most unnatural way as her decomposed face distorted into something from the darkest of nightmares, and her hollow eyes burned through his soul like a hot iron through wax, and he screamed even louder.
There was a banging noise, and several shadows started to attack him, and pull him, and tug at him, and he screamed, and he yelled, and he trashed his arms around. He could hear people shout his name, and he thought he recognised their voices, but she was still there, and reached for his throat.
"Tranquilise him!" he could hear someone shout, and out of nowhere, there was a sharp pain in his leg, and slowly, but oh-so-involuntarily, he felt himself slip away, and the Darkness engulfed him once again.
.:*Ö*:.
There was a loud knock on Logan's door, and despite the late hour, he wasn't asleep. So, he opened the door and was faced by a very worried Elliot. "Is everything alright?"
"You'd better come quick!" Elliot's voice was shaking, and Logan furrowed his brows. "It's Walter."
Logan nodded. "Where is he?"
Elliot motioned Logan to follow him, and together, they rushed through the dark corridors, and the closer they got to the part of the castle where Walter had his chambers, the more servants stood gathered by doorways in their nightgowns, whispering frantically to each other, falling silent when Elliot and Logan walked passed them.
Logan didn't care. He was too worried to even bother to tell them to go back to their rooms. Finally, they reached Walter's room, and as they opened it, Logan was almost expecting, and dreading, to walk into his mother's sickroom, but they didn't. Instead, they walked into a brightly lit room, where Walter lay sleeping in the bed, and Dr Sanders was sitting by the desk, making notes and holding a stern eye on Walter.
"What's happened?" Logan demanded.
Dr Sanders sighed and rose. "Sire, his screaming was so bad, we had to put him down."
Logan clenched his jaw. It was getting much worse. Much, much worse. Flash-backs of his mother's days of illness played before his eyes, and he had to take a step back. Never in his entire life, did he imagine he would ever have to go through that again, yet here he was. He nodded. "What of the light?"
"I believe it will soothe him once he wakes up," the doctor explained.
"What is your verdict?"
"I still believe we're dealing with battle-associated stress reactions here," Dr Sanders said, "however, I've never encountered it this bad." He then shifted awkwardly and looked at Logan, and then at Elliot, and then back at Logan.
"What's the matter?" Logan asked.
Dr Sanders cleared his throat. "Sire, there… there may have been a…" he glanced at Elliot and then back at Logan "…similar case, quite some time ago."
Logan clenched his jaw and nodded. Then he looked at Elliot. "Please, would you inform Page that Walter is unwell and may not be able to participate in the meeting tomorrow?"
Elliot glanced and the doctor, then Walter, and then he nodded. "Yes, sir."
When Logan was alone with the doctor, and a sleeping Walter, he sighed deeply and glared at the doctor. "What do you know?"
Dr Sanders fixed his spectacles and cleared his throat. Sweat was forming on his forehead. "Well, I—I know this is a sensitive topic, sir, but I was referring to your mother, the late Hero Queen."
Logan nodded and rolled his eyes. "Yes, I assumed that. What do you know of it?"
"I was an apprentice at the time, for Dr Baker," Dr Sanders explained. "I was never allowed to observe him while he was working on your mother, however, in the strictest confidence, he told me about the case after her departure. When Dr Baker himself passed, and I took over for him, I read through his notes on the case, and I… according to his descriptions, I can't imagine how horrible it must have been." He searched through his papers and took out an old notebook. "After several observations of Sir Walter, I have found patterns, alarmingly alike Queen Sparrow's strange illness."
Logan sighed. "I can say, with a hundred percent certainty, that he has the same thing."
"Is it contagious?" Dr Sanders asked lowly. "Should we put him in quarantine?"
Logan shook his head. "That won't be necessary, doctor." Then he sighed and headed for the door, beaten down and with a heavy heart. "Let's just make his remaining days worth living." He left the room and headed back to his own. Images of his mother still played before his eyes, but he forced himself to only think of the time before the illness, and in the end, a smile cracked through his miserable face.
.:*Ö*:.
The smell of the sea, and the warm breezes were welcomed by Andrea as she stood at the bow of the ship. The only thing that bothered her was her fight with Ben the night before. She regretted getting so upset, because she knew they had an agreement. She was engaged to Elliot, and she was to marry him. That was the deal. It wasn't fair of her to scold Ben the way she did, but done was done. Now, the only thing stopping her from apologising was her pride. Ben also seemed to have that problem, because no matter how much she blamed herself, he had done mistakes, too, and she wouldn't have it any other way. It wasn't completely her fault. But he hadn't spoken to her all morning, except on formal occasions in front of other people, addressing her as "Your Majesty" and bowing politely. Andrea had been too stubborn to ask for a private conversation, and left it that way. Now, she regretted it. They would arrive in Bowerstone later that night, and she would hate it if they stepped ashore enemies. But still, she did not want to take the first step. As always in doubt, she sighed and hummed the only song she remembered from her mother. The lyrics were only vaguely remembered, but she knew the first verse. "'Down by the reeds, down by the reeds—"
"Swim the Sirens of Oakvale, out to the seas," Ben finished in speaking as he joined her by the bow.
"Do you believe they still exists?" Andrea asked. "Sirens?"
"Of course they do," Ben said. "I've seen them. Though, it's been a long time since they were anywhere near the shores of Albion, I reckon."
"I would like to see one someday."
"Well, they're not that nice, I must warn you."
Andrea clenched her jaw.
"Lunch is served, if that suits you, your Majesty," he then said and bowed.
"Ben, wait!" Andrea groaned as he turned to walk away.
He turned back to her. "Yes, your Majesty?"
She furrowed her brows. "Please, Ben, let's not be quarrelling any longer! I'm… I'm sorry for my outburst last night, and… you hand. I was just… tired and disappointed."
Ben clenched his jaw and avoided her eyes.
She stepped closer and lowered her voice, so that the ship crew would overhear. "But… we need to talk about this. We need to talk about what to do!"
He shot a stern look at her. "We know what to do."
She didn't quite understand his reasons. Was there something he didn't tell her? "So… it's settled, then? You want me to marry Elliot?"
He gave her a long, unreadable look, before he sighed deeply and leaned over the railings. "Of course I don't want you to marry him, but we had a deal."
"Oh, forget about the deal!" Andrea cried, perhaps a bit louder than intended. She huffed and took another step closer. "This is ridiculous! I love you, and you love me, so let's make it count!"
"Princess, it's not that simple!" Ben hissed and looked at her. "Tell me, honestly; do you not intend to marry Elliot?"
"Yes, I do," she said. "If you don't want me."
This time, it was his turn to huff. "Of course I want you! I just… I just don't want to marry you." A strange silence fell between them after that statement.
Andrea shifted awkwardly. What did he mean by that?
Ben sighed uncomfortably. "Look, had you been another girl – any other girl – I would marry you in a heartbeat. By Avo, I would kill every last man who dared to challenge me on that! But…" He sighed again. "I don't want to be King. And I don't want to be King more than I want you."
"If you truly loved me, you wouldn't care if marrying me also meant becoming King," she muttered.
His face hardened. "Then you don't know me very well."
Suddenly, there was a tear in the bond they had weaved together. Something had broken between them.
Andrea nodded, though her heart was breaking. "Perhaps I don't know you at all."
There was sorrow in Ben's face, but he hid it well by a veil of nonchalance, and he nodded and muttered "Your Majesty", before he left her.
-0-
Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think ab—oh, you're thinking about it! Don't think about it. Don't think about it! Those were the only thoughts that had rushed through Andrea's head the whole day, and when the Bowerstone skyline was shown on the horizon, she felt relief, but also dread. Perhaps, perhaps she should just forget about Benjamin Finn and focus entirely on the oncoming Darkness and on rebuilding her relationship with Elliot. After all, he was to be her husband, and to be honest, it wasn't that bad. Elliot was a good man, a kind man, and even though he did not possess the same… roguish qualities as Ben, he was an honest man, and she knew he'd make a good King. Perhaps it was for the best.
As the ship slowly sailed into the harbour, Andrea was surprised to find so many people welcoming her with cheers and gifts and love. She had expected them to loathe her, since she disappeared when they needed her most, but apparently, her being gone had been a positive thing. At least, they seemed to love her more now than ever before.
For the first time since their dispute, Ben walked up to her. "Are you ready?"
Trying to disguise her nervousness, Andrea straightened her back and ignored his question. Instead, she walked past him and down towards the bridge deck where she now could see the familiar faces of her brother, Page, Elliot and Reaver, and Tara and her children in the front of the crowd. But no Walter. To inquire for him was her first obligation, according to herself, but the only answer she received was a significant look from Logan which said that now was not the time. Trying to hide her sad defeat, she nodded and looked out over the masses of people. They probably expected her to say something, but she didn't know what to say. Ben had told her how they all thought she was out fighting evil, and so, to make them still believe in her, she raised her voice, "My people! I have returned to you after battling evil creatures in the deep south, and I am now prepared to strengthen and ready this Kingdom for our ultimate challenge. Are you with me?"
A roar of cheers and applauds was heard throughout the crowd, and Andrea sighed in relief. They were still with her.
After politely and gracefully shaking hands with people in the front, she then made her way back to the castle, escorted by Ben and his men, with Elliot by her side, and Logan, Page and Reaver behind her. She held on to Elliot's arm and wished she never fell for Ben and still loved Elliot with all her heart. But she couldn't really look at him the same way any longer.
Don't think about it. That phrase would be her only way to keep track of her emotions, she knew. But she kept a straight face and walked towards the castle together with the party and let the people have their celebrations on the streets.
She was immediately taken to her chambers by her maids to be prepared to meet the masses and join the celebrations.
"Where's Sir Walter?" she ordered, and at once, her maids fell silent, and they all avoided her eyes. She glared at them. "Where's Walter?"
"Your Grace—" one of them started, but Andrea was getting impatient.
"Where's Walter?"
"He's in his chambers, Milady!" the maid hurried to say and curtsied. "He's feelin' unwell!"
"Thank you," she said and left the maids to hurry thought the halls. Outside his room, a guard was placed, and he shifted awkwardly when the Queen was closing in.
"I'm afraid you can't enter here, Your Grace," he said nervously.
"Step aside," she ordered softly, though she wanted to shout at him.
"I'm sorry, Your Grace, but I have orders—"
"Step aside!" There was something strange about the way they were all acting, and the way Logan had given her that specific look earlier. The guard reluctantly stepped aside, and Andrea made her way into the room. A familiar smell of staleness and sweat faced her, and she had to take a step back. Walter was lying in his bed, breathing heavily, probably asleep, and a man with round spectacles looked at her with widened eyes.
"Your Majesty," he breathed. "I—I didn't think—" He hurried to stand up, and knocked some paper to the floor in the process. "I didn't think you'd come yet!"
"How is he?" she cried as she carefully walked towards the bed.
"He's stable for now, but I've had to put him down a couple of times," the doctor said. "He's getting worse."
"He said he was fine," she muttered, mostly to herself. "He—he said he was fine!" Why wouldn't he have told her about her nightmares? After everything the two of them had been through? She felt deceived, she felt betrayed, but most of all, she felt robbed. Robbed of a chance of trying to help him, robbed of his chance of trying to save him. Then she remembered the small leather pouch Darius had given her, and she quickly pulled it from her belt and handed it over to the doctor. "A friend gave this to me. He thought it might help."
The doctor took the leather pouch in his hands and opened it, and once he saw what was inside, he gasped loudly. "H-how did you find this?"
"It was given to me by a sorcerer in Deepwood," Andrea said. "Why, what is it?"
"This is Meandoc root," the doctor breathed, without taking his eyes off the content of the bag. "It's… it's a very, very, rare medicine I thought was long gone… This—this root can even cure certain death! It's almost as if it's magical!"
"You think it will help him?" she asked.
He looked at her. "If this doesn't help him, nothing will."
.:*Ö*:.
He had to keep a good and friendly exterior, even though he wanted to smash that brow-haired little boy in the face. There he was, bragging about his soon-to-be wife, that was supposed to be Ben's soon-to-be wife, and telling the entire bloody party how blessed he felt and how lucky he was to possess the heart of such an amiable young woman. Ben wanted to laugh him in the face and ask him, in front of everyone else, if he had had the young Queen yet, if he had made a woman out of her yet, but he kept the scornful comments to himself. Instead, he amused himself by telling an audience of pretty young ladies of his adventures in the feared Bloodstone, and in the legendary Deepwood, even though he wanted nothing but to hold Andrea until the sun towered over the mountains again, but that would never happen. It wasn't Elliot who possessed her heart; it was Ben. But he had messed things up, like he always did, and was now the biggest pig in all of Albion. So, he would spend the rest of the evening drinking himself unnecessarily drunk, and sleep in a ditch somewhere in Industrial. There he would lie, until someone would find him, or perhaps beat him up for no reason, or perhaps throw him into the sea, which would be a good solution, according to Ben himself. He didn't deserve to die honourable. Not after what he'd said and done to Andrea.
And so he did. He drank himself unnecessarily drunk and wondered off into Industrial with a bottle of whiskey in his one hand and with his pistol in the other, where the celebration still were in its midst. He cheered at some men playing lutes and flutes and fiddlers in the street, and fired some shots into the air, and he tried to dance, too, but found it hard to keep his balance. He staggered away towards the docks, singing loudly and shouting obscenities that made the women cover the ears of the children still being out of their beds.
What the drunken Ben didn't realise was that he had company, and it wasn't until a forceful hand shoved him down onto a seat, he reacted. "Page!" he said. "How nice to see you here, sweetheart!" He threw his arm around her shoulders, but she pushed it away. Had she become stronger while he was away, or was he just weaker?
"You're pissed," she muttered.
"That… was a very acru—accurent—accurate observation my dark-skinned friend!" Ben said and took another sip of his whiskey.
Page quickly removed the gun from his hand. "Ben, what's the matter?"
"Matter?" Ben repeated. "Nothing's the matter! Nothing matters! What's the matter with you?"
Page sighed. "I've never seen you like this."
"You've never seen me like anything," he said and leaned towards her, but once again, he found it hard to keep balance and almost fell onto her, if she hadn't pushed him back.
"Ben, do you even know where we are?"
"Of course!" he said and sat up straight. Or, at least he thought it was straight. It felt straight. "We're in the mist! Deep, deep into the mist, and on the other side lies… the treasure!"
Page rolled her eyes. "Ben, we're at the docks. You were heading towards the edge."
"That's what I said!" Ben cried.
"No, it wasn't," Page said.
"Why doesn't she want me?" Ben then spat. "I mean, she wants me, but why won't she understand when I say that I don't want her? I mean, I want her, but I don't want her life! I want her in my life, but I don't want me in her life! Why is that so hard to understand? And why is she choosing Elliot over someone like—"
Page hushed him. "Don't talk. You're not making sense."
"I am making perfect sense!" Ben protested. "My head is ringing clear, and my words are thinking straight!"
"Right," Page said. "Let's get you back to town."
"I'm making sense!"
"Of course you are!"
"I don't want to leave!"
Page sighed. "Fine. We'll stay here. But don't jump into the water."
"No," he promised. "I won't." He sighed deeply, feeling how the alcohol ran its course through his body, and he also felt how he more and more started to lean against Page, but he couldn't do anything about it, because he was unable to support himself, and after ten minutes, or so, he couldn't even keep his eyes open, and he swiftly fell asleep, blissfully unaware of the headache that would most certainly follow.