Secrets in the Shadows
A/N: I had fun writing the last chapter and this one was fun, but not quite as fun. However after that chapter I am not sure anymore who Inara should end up with. We have the obvious Lancelot possibility, we have the Tristan option (more so after this chapter), and Galahad. Gah! Help me choose please, because until then we are just going to have a lot of tension.
As always, I own nothing. I am but a poor and humble writer, with only this story title and the plot to my name.
Chapter Five: Aiding the Inebriated!
Tristan took the passageways he knew no one would be using at this hour, so that he would not be stopped. Granted, most would just assume that the woman in his arms was a whore he planned on bedding that evening and not Inara Paullus. She was small and thus rather light, but he still stumbled occasionally as he himself was not entirely sober.
He arrived outside his rooms and glanced around quickly before nudging the door open with his foot and closing it behind him similarly. The room was dark, but he still managed to place Inara gently on to his bed. She did not stir as he did this, but merely looked to be in a peaceful slumber. He managed to light a candle and placed it near the bed, bathing her in a golden light.
Knowing what lied ahead for him, he left his room briefly to obtain a bucket lest she be sick, and a water basin and cloth. Upon his arrival he found her eyes wandering to and fro, not focusing long on one object. She managed to stay her vision long enough however to meet his gaze.
"I sleep...?" She mumbled, the sound of her voice heavily obscured by her slurring.
"You passed out yes, but not for more than half an hour." He responded placing the bucket beside the bed, and soaking a piece of fabric in the water basin.
"..Lancelot..me..ale." She muttered but he could not decipher what she was saying.
"Lancelot was too drunk to take care of you, so I took on the job. I'll get you to your rooms as soon as I know you can be left on your own." He ran the cloth over her face.
The coolness of the cloth cleared her head somewhat, but she had far too much ale in her system to be remedied by a splash of water to the face. She watched him as he wiped at her brow, and around her eyes, the kohl coming off and staining the cloth.
He didn't speak, and it was probably best this way as she wasn't in a state to carry on a conversation and Tristan wasn't one for words. Inara fumbled with the clasp of her cloak, her normally nimble fingers unable to undo the contraption. Tristan finally grabbed her hands and set them at her sides before quickly undoing the clasp and sliding the material of the cloak from her shoulders.
His touch was surprisingly warm as it glided over her skin, and had she been more alert she probably would have enjoyed it more. Tristan however was concentrating hard upon the fact that he was just doing what was right, and seeing to it that no harm befell the girl.
"Head...hurts...I ...sick" Inara choked out before finding the strength to flip on to her side and vomit the contents of her dinner as well as all the liquid she had consumed that evening into the bucket.
Tristan reached forward and grabbed her long hair holding it back as she puked. For a battle hearty warrior who could see a man lose his head and not even flinch, he was having a hard time watching her wretch. Perhaps it was the combination of the smell and the sound of her vomiting that was getting to him, but Tristan himself started to get sick.
Finally, she seemed to stop. But he continued to hold her head over the bucket just in case. After a few moments he finally helped her to sit up and he made her rinse her mouth out with some water.
"..thank you." Inara said with some effort so that she would be understood.
Tristan nodded his head, and began to braid back her long strands of hair. Holding her hair back and holding her up was too bothersome. She allowed him to work without questioning, his fingers already knowing how to weave the locks as he braided quite a few of his own. Soon two rather tight braids lie on either side of her head. Inara began to relax, as a girl when her mother had played with her hair she'd always fall asleep and with Tristan it was no different. Shortly after she passed into a quiet slumber.
Tristan was glad for the reprieve and took this opportunity to empty out the bucket and scout the hallway to see if it was clear of all other inhabitants. It seemed that most were already fast asleep as no candle-light spilled out from beneath their doors. Now was the time to bring Inara back to her own chambers.
He moved like a cat in the shadows back to his own room, shutting the door gently behind him. Inara was still fast asleep snuggled into his blankets. Tristan slowly reached down an shook her arm to rouse her. Instantly blue-green eyes looked back into his brown.
"I want to see if you can walk yet." Tristan said clearly and firmly before hoisting Inara from her sitting position on the bed
She looped one arm through his, and tried taking a step but she was far too off-balance and shaky. Once more, he gathered her up in his arms. He was going to have to carry her back to her bed, which would make this operation slightly more difficult. He took care to wrap her cloak tightly about her again, and set off slowly down the halls with his bundle.
Luckily no one came across him, and he shut her bedroom door silently behind him. He took in the room they had given her, it had once belonged to a knight named Robin. A rather cowardly boy, but his fellow knight none the less. He remembered during their second year of service to the Empire, Robin got attacked by a rooster outside Bristol. He killed the animal and up until the day he died Gawain had called him the Vanquisher of Chickens.
He lay her gently upon the bed as if she was as fragile as a peace of glass and was about to leave the room entirely when he remembered that she was not dressed for bed. Not really wanting to have to change the woman's clothes, he settled on removing her cloak and tucking her firmly under the covers. Inara was a smart girl, she could think of something to explain why she fell asleep in a dinner gown instead of a dressing gown.
He took one last glance at her, she was peaceful and for once didn't seem imposing. He tried to remember her just as thus because in the morning she would be entirely unhappy and back to being the little Princess.
"Goodnight Inara." He whispered under his breath.
Tristan stepped out of the room and was met with one very angry and shocked parent.
A/N: I know I'm mean this chapter was short and I had to leave it as a cliffhanger...cause it allows me to say the following: dun dun dun! As for Robin, any sensible person would know that it is a reference to "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" and his vanquishing of the vicious chicken of Bristol. I think this chapter was mostly filler, but it was needed so I could have action in the next chapter. What kind of action, do you ask? Well...you'll have to stick around to find out. Review!