Wrote most of this tucked up in bed with a god-awful hangover. I feel you, Rose. I feel you.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A churning in my stomach tugged my eyes open. A splitting headache forced them closed again. Hello, Mr Hangover. I fell out of bed and stumbled blindly to the toilet where I emptied the contents of my stomach into the bowl.
Because my eyes were still squeezed shut against the blinding headache that was pounding my brain into oblivion, I didn't notice the bathroom light turn on or Dimitri enter until he spoke.
"I thought you had an iron stomach?"
Unable to look at him, I batted him away weakly with a limp arm. The last thing I wanted as an audience.
"Go away. This is gross."
Fortunately, he didn't try to argue. Instead, he placed a glass of water and a ponytail holder by my left knee and then retreated.
My attempt at thanks was cut off by another tidal wave of what had to be pure alcohol heaving up from my stomach.
The door closed softly behind me, leaving me alone in my misery. It wasn't so much that I was embarrassed about Dimitri seeing me in this physical state; I was ashamed because it was self-inflicted.
The vomiting soon turned to dry heaving, and after that I was able to clean my teeth and sort out my ratty mane. I even managed a quick shower, though I had to sit down to keep from slipping over in my dizzy state. When I stumbled back into the bedroom, world still spinning around me, there was another drink on my bedside table along with a bottle of aspirin. Dimitri sat in the velvet armchair in the corner pretending to be engrossed in a book, but I could tell he was watching me over the top of it.
Crawling back into bed, I whimpered pitifully like a lost kitten. Finally, Dimitri sighed and came over to me.
"Are you my nurse?" I mumbled as he shook out a couple of the pills and handed them to me.
"Hans thinks so. I told him you had food poisoning and I was staying home to look after you. I doubt it fooled him."
Of course it wouldn't have. Between Dhampir immunity and my own reputation as a living trashcan, there was no way he'd believe I was anything other than hungover this morning.
That begged the question of how much I'd drunk, and also, what the hell had I done last night.
When I asked Dimitri this, he laughed. "I think I'll let the girls debrief you on that- once they're up to it, of course. I've heard that they're all at least as bad as you."
Well, that was something, I supposed. At least I wasn't the only one embarrassing themselves this morning.
Dimitri pointed to the brownish drink on the nightstand. "Adrian brought this over for you. Something Sydney used to make to help him with hangovers- some super cure."
"It looks like it's going to make me vom again."
A smile his in the corners of Dimitri's mouth. "That'll be the kale and coffee combination. Doesn't result in the most appetising of colours."
"That sounds vile. What else is in it?"
"Electrolytes and sugar, mostly."
Usually, I had a rule that against consuming any drink that contained vegetables. However, knowing that Sydney had concocted this with her Alchemisty skills made me believe that it might actually help.
I took a sip and instantly regretted it.
"There's vodka in here!"
Dimitri chuckled. "I suppose that's Adrian's addition. Oh well, drink up."
I glared but did as I was told, mumbling about this being how they did things in mother Russia. He ignored me and went back to his book.
When I finished the vile potion, silence hung heavy in the room. I was the one to break it.
"You're mad, aren't you."
Sighing, Dimitri carefully dog-eared his page before putting the book down on the coffee table.
"Not mad. Just…"
"Disappointed?"
"Shocked is the closest word, I think. Or maybe surprised."
"Yeah." I hung my head. "I feel really dumb."
Seeing how upset I was, Dimitri moved off the chair and sat beside me. "Maybe just a little bit, he agreed, cracking a half smile. "It's fine that you wanted to have a good time with your friends, but getting intoxicated to that level was irresponsible. It may have been a low-risk area in terms of Strigoi threats, but there are other things that could have gone wrong. Whilst I have the utmost faith in you defending yourself and your friends against any mortal threats whilst sober, your ability would be severely affected when so inebriated. Did you even have a stake with you? And climbing on top of that streetlamp- Rose, you could have seriously injured yourself when you fell."
I frowned in confusion, until hazy memories of clambering up a lamppost surfaced in my mind. Good lord, that had been quite dangerous.
"I guess it's lucky you came when you did," I admitted. "But we weren't actually planning to walk home. I'm not quite that dumb."
"I know, Roza," Dimitri said, the nickname making me feel better. He was done with the scolding, it seemed.
Getting wasted back at St Vlads was one thing- it was safe there, mostly. But it's different out in the world. I've been at Court so long I'd almost forgotten that. One thing was for sure- I wouldn't let myself get in that state again. Especially if I'd feel like this the morning after. My stomach still felt bloated and I felt shaky and dizzy. This was by far the worst hangover I'd ever had. I didn't want to touch alcohol ever again.
Seeing my subdued state, Dimitri finally took pity on me and dropped the subject altogether.
"Go get dressed," he suggested. "I'll cook a greasy breakfast and you can come back to bed and eat it."
"You really are a hero," I told him, echoing something I vaguely remembered from last night.
He swept the sweaty hair back from my forehead and kissed my clammy skin. "I know."
When Dimitri left for his shift an hour later, Lissa came to check on me. After a gentle scolding about the lamppost mishap, she took pity on my pathetic state and took over nurse duty. I refused to let her use Spirit to cure my hangover, so she settled for massaging my sore head and feeding me biscuits whilst we watched Friends reruns in bed.
Mia joined us after the third episode, looking even worse than I did. After four more episodes, and several cups of herbal tea, we felt alive enough to look through the photos from the night before.
Flicking through them in order served as a perfect chronicle of or descent into debauchery. In the first pictures we all looked fresh-faced and bright-eyed at dinner, to glazed and dishevelled at the first bars, to wild with smudged makeup in the last ones.
The videos were even worse.
"Oh my god," I cringed when one played of me racing a group of men to down a pint of cider. "I'd completely forgotten about that." No wonder I felt so damn vile today. In addition to the cider, I could see a pitcher od what looked like Long Island iced tea on our table. My stomach lurched threateningly.
Fortunately, I was distracted from that when the next video began to play- Mia up on the bar and whipping her shirt off. Lissa gasped before bursting into laughter.
"Mia, honey, you look ridiculous!"
"I know," she whined. "I thought I was super sexy at the time."
"I did, too," I consoled her. "If nothing else, you were entertaining."
When we came to a photo of Sydney with a traffic cone on her head, Lissa asked where she was. I felt bad for not doing so sooner.
"Still at Adrian's place," Mia said. "I stopped by on the way here and he said she was sleeping. She spent most of the night throwing up…"
"Poor Sydney," Lissa shook her head. "You two really corrupted her."
"I know. I feel bad."
"Don't worry too much," Lissa consoled me. "Adrien probably healed the worst of it anyway. I bet right now they're enjoying themselves in a Spirit dream."
The thought did make me feel better. "You're right. Lucky girl, getting to fool around even in her sleep."
"Surely you do enough of that already," Mia laughed.
"Have you seen Dimitri?! No such thing as getting enough of that."
Lissa sighed in exasperation. "You're incorrigible."
"Hey now, I had to witness your escapades with Christian first-hand for months. No use acting all innocent."
She blushed, focussing her attention back on Mia's phone to change the subject.
The last few photos were too dark and blurry to make out what was going on, but I thought I could see myself perched atop the streetlight between the blurred streaks.
The conversation ended, and the companionable silence that followed was soon broken by Mia's snores as she napped. Careful not to wake her, Lissa and I crept out of the room and into her apartment.
"Why couldn't I have slept too?" I whined when we were out of earshot.
"Because you've got things to do!"
When we reached her room, I saw what she meant. Two huge suitcases lay open on the bed, already filled with toiletries and other essentials. A few outfits were hung on the open wardrobe doors, but for the most part, it seemed that she hadn't packed any clothes yet. That was the part that filled me with dread.
"Oh no. No, no, no. I am not spending my hungover afternoon helping you pick your outfits. I'd rather drink another coffee and kale smoothie."
Ignoring me completely, Lissa headed for the wardrobe and began to rifle through the shirts that hung there. It seemed I'd reached the end of even Lissa's great reserves of sympathy.
"It'll be hot in Baia, right?" she asked.
"Quite hot I think, yeah." My Arctic wasteland misconceptions had been fully dispelled by now. "Remember your sunhat- can't have you getting cooked."
A straw hat sailed over her shoulder and missed the suitcases entirely landing on the opposite side of the bed. I went to pick it up before joining her in the wardrobe.
"I can't find anything I like that still fits!" Lissa exclaimed, exasperated, as she begun to flip through garments at an even greater speed. Just watching her was making my head pound again.
"Whoa!" I finally called timeout when a stray hanger hit me in the head. "Slow down before you find yourself in Narnia, Liss. There's plenty of good stuff here."
Brushing her aside, I picked out several floaty chiffon tops with long sleeves that would be cool whilst protecting her delicate Moroi skin from the worst of the sun. There were a couple of long cotton skirts that would match, and I pulled these out too. All loose enough or elasticated to allow for the slight increase in her hip and breast size due to pregnancy.
Turning around, I saw Lissa watching me with an amused smirk on her face.
"What?"
"Two years ago, you'd have gone straight for the croptops and miniskirts."
I shrugged. "Not my fault you queenly wardrobe is all boring. Show me the partywear and I'll throw that in the case too."
I was half joking. We both knew that my style had changed a bit since I was seventeen, and that even surrounded by our friends and family, she was expected to maintain a certain amount of decorum in what she wore. Not to mention that a croptop would show off her bump.
Still, I let her borrow some tank tops that the Court dresser would have balked out (God forbid the Queen should show her shoulders) and cropped pants, as well as some more casual shorts and T-shirts for lounging around in. After using my super ninja skills to sneak back into my room to get them without waking up Mia, I was glad to see that they fit. The waistband of my shorts was still a little loose on her, and they came to just below the knee rather than the calf, but nobody would notice so long as she wore a belt.
So far, the general public had not been informed of Lissa's pregnancy, and her seamstress was doing her best to let out her normal clothes so they would still fit. It wouldn't last forever though. A few eagle-eyed Moroi were noticing her bump, and their love of gossip meant the news was starting to spread. Moroi bodies did not simply start putting on weight, so pregnancy was the only real explanation. Honestly, I was surprised it had remained a secret for as long as it had. Once we got back from Russia, Lissa would release a statement saying that she was indeed expecting, and would be able to switch to maternity wear.
"What's the deal there with shoes?" Lissa asked, breaking me out of my reverie. "Are heels appropriate, or shall I just stick to flats?"
"You'll definitely want a pair of comfy sneakers," I told her, "there'll be quite a bit of walking if you want to sight-see. Everything's pretty spread out. For the more formal occasions, heels will be fine, but bear in mind you'll be taller than most women there. Other than that, your old ballet pumps will be perfect."
Lissa smiled at this. As Queen, she was expected to wear at least three-inch heels at all times when at Court. She missed wearing flats. Two of her old favourite pairs I remembered from St. Vlads made their way to the cases, on top of the satin heels she'd chosen to go with her bridesmaid dress and the barely-worn sneakers I'd insisted she pack.
Hopefully, switching to maternity wear would also do away with heels. Wearing stilettos whilst being six months pregnant with twins would not be fun.
As Lissa continued to chat about shoes, I zoned out a bit, thinking once more about the babies. In just a few months, everything would change. After her initial freak out whilst camping, Lissa had done amazingly well to take the news in her stride. I, on the other hand, was growing more apprehensive by the day. Despite all my jokes, I truly was nervous about these tiny live joining my world. I had no experience with babies, and really did worry about being terrible with them.
And, a voice in the back of my mind whispered, I was even more afraid that I would be great.
One thing was for sure; once these babies were born, everything was going to change. My best friend was embarking on a journey I could never follow her on. All I could do was cheer her on from the sidelines and try to smooth out any bumps in the road. That part, at least, I was familiar with.
My duty was to protect and serve the Dragomir family. However big the dynasty may become, I would protect and serve each and every one of them until my dying day.
Even if that service meant listening to endless monologues about shoes whilst nursing the worst hangover known to man.
Review and Dimitri will look after you next time you're feeling unwell