"Worry does not empty tomorrow
of its sorrow. It empties today of its strength.
~Corrie Ten Boom

It was raining.

Not that I particularly minded that, I mean. I like the rain. Even when it was pouring buckets like it was at the present time—huge, loaded drops that tended to sploosh when they hit the ground rather than patter. It just soaked me that much more after half an hour of sitting.

The jade green and purplish-magenta tones from early the day before had been washed out of my hair a long time ago, and the darkened gold strands were now plastered to my brow, cheeks, and neck as if they'd been glued there. Heavy drops landed on my head and slid down my face and cheeks, eventually slipping off the end of my nose or jawline to strike my clothes and repeat the process. And the truth was, I didn't have the energy to move from my current position—legs pulled up to my chest with my chin sitting on my knees.

It wasn't that I was still confined to the med clinic. It was that I was just both physically and mentally exhausted after having been up all night and most of today. I just didn't function well on no sleep, period.

Tessa was sick.

She had coliced. One of the newer stablehands had given her a bucket of fresh, icy water after I had brought her in from a ride, and it was one of the worst things he could have done to shock her system. I had spent the night with my mare, walking her a bit every fifteen minutes or so to keep her on her feet and keep her from rolling. I didn't want to think about what might happen if she did manage to flip over, even if it was just to itch her back, and an icy hand that had nothing to do with the ongoing rain closed around my heart. If Tessa rolled, there was every chance that her stomach would flip. If that happened, the only option would be to put the horse out of its misery.

And I just couldn't let that happen.

After I had spent most of this morning at the same thing as all of last night, Rolith had come into her stall with one of the knights (they still wore their helmet, and I was exhausted, so I had no idea who it was) and told me in no uncertain terms that I needed sleep; that someone else would take over. I guess it was a testament to how incredibly dead-tired I was that I only protested once.

The Captain had all but carried me to my assigned room, told me to get some sleep (but in a much kinder tone), and had quietly shut the door behind him. I used ten minutes to change out of my armor and into something more comfortable, but after that I had no compunctions about climbing the stairway I had found the one day to the roof of the Keep, and sitting the rain out.

And that was how I found myself here presently, doing nothing productive and worrying about Tessa because Lore help me if Rolith caught me down there after he had specifically told me to sleep.

My front teeth slipped over my lower lip for the umpteenth time, and I once again reflected on Rolith's actions the week before when he had so considerately brought me my painting things.

He had only shot me a small smile as he transferred the brushes and colors from his hands to mine, and I was beginning to think that tiny upward curl of his lips was reserved for me and me alone. It made my stomach do that little loss-of-gravity thing just a bit, but then I remembered that he had to have seen the painting I had already done of him. I had nothing to go by, but judging by that little half-smile he'd offered me, he'd seen it.

I hadn't brought it up, and neither did he. I could only hope to whatever deities existed that he just had missed it, somehow. But knowing his tendency to notice tiny details (a skill I most certainly did not possess), I highly doubted that he had failed to notice. Although… a small, very, very vocal part of my mind was going to be disappointed if he hadn't noticed. It made me blush, squeak, and bury my head in my arms to acknowledge that I wanted nothing less than for the Captain to feel the same way.

Awh, shoot, I internally groaned, I'm sounding like a hormone-crazed teenager from one of those cheap romance novels that Mum used to read. Gotta cut that out. Stupid dreamer.

Dreamer.

Dreamer.

But then, I'm an artist. That's what we do. Isn't it?

Over the white noise of the rain, I heard a door slam. It sounded like it might've been one of the main doors. Three guesses as to who did it.

"CALLIOPE!"

Yep, that was Rolith.

"GET OVER HERE NOW!"

Ooh, he sounded angry. There was a pause, then I forced my reluctant and cold muscles to support my weight as I rose to my feet unsteadily. I felt sluggish, which I assumed could be attributed to a combination of being exhausted, worried, cold, wet, and dull. I slid through the trap door and began the long descent down the tightly wound staircase, wondering briefly how the workers had managed to cart all the shingles and stuff to build the roof up here using this.

To get down, it might be more beneficial to build a slide… That could be fun.

It was still pitch black here, but after accidentally stumbling across a crate of gunpowder one day (no, I literally stumbled over it trying to find the stairs), I didn't bother with a torch or matches. I had that much sense, at least.

A few minutes later, I halfheartedly tugged the door open, and emerged again into the ceaseless rain, soundlessly closing the door behind me. None of the knights ever went in there, and I selfishly wanted that rooftop place all to myself. I could gather my thoughts there, mope, and think, and nobody would worry up there that I was being too quiet, or think there was something wrong. They didn't need to worry about me.

Around the corner, I slammed accidentally into somebody, enough to make my breath stutter and my mind need to unscramble itself. I managed to keep my footing, though, and morosely looked up at the Captain, who now had his arms crossed and was scowling. It wasn't a Real Scowl, I decided, because Rolith's Real Scowl scared me witless. I'd seen it directed towards bandits once, and that was the only time I needed to see it. No, this was more of a, 'You are in a big heap of trouble, young missy, and your mother will deal with you when you get home!' scowl. Big difference. The crossed arms added to the effect.

All the while, this is what my brain was managing to come up with, and all that while, neither Rolith nor I said anything, just staring at each other. After a few long minutes of our staring contest while the clouds above the forest continued to dump their ocean-worth of water down on us, it belatedly occurred to me that Rolith wasn't wearing his armor now like he had been earlier. Instead, he was wearing breeches with boots and a v-neck shirt with ties holding the collar together that seemed to be the staple shirt for most people here. I would have asked him about it, but it just didn't seem like I had the energy.

Stupid, really. If I had climbed all the way up those stairs and all the way down, how could I feel like I had no energy whatsoever?

"… You should be resting," he finally said sternly, shifting his weight slightly. I gazed at him morosely as I offered a gloomy shrug.

"Couldn't sleep."

My friend's disapproving look at last gave way to a resigned one.

"You're soaked to the skin," Rolith noted with a frown, and I looked down at myself. It may have been getting cooler nights, but the rain was still quite warm. The fabric I was wearing clung to my skin, and it made me feel just a little awkward. I resisted pointing out that he was now just as wet as I was.

"Keeping me out of the rain works about as well as baptizing a cat," I murmured with a faint smile. It wasn't anywhere near my other, animated smiles—this one was just a shadow of those. But it was there, and as long as some sort of smile was on my face, the other people in my life wouldn't worry. Right? Right.

Rolith just sighed through his nose, running a bare hand through his now-soaked hair. His lips seemed to be having quite a lot of trouble. They seemed to be wanting to shift in an upwards position.

"Tell you what," he said, lightly resting a hand on the small of my back as a small force to drive me in the direction of the stables, "We'll get something set up right outside Contesse's stall so you can kip out there, alright?" I nodded a bit numbly, glancing up at him. "And I'm planning to organize an overnight bandit hunt soon. When she's better—" I noticed idly that he said 'when,' not 'if.' "—you can take her with us. How does that sound?"

I paused for a moment to consider it. It sounded… pretty fun, actually. And fun was something that was difficult to come by in a place like Oaklore Keep. That's why I tried to cause as much as was humanly possible. Besides… I couldn't remember since I'd come here the last time I'd spent a night away from the Keep.

"Okay," I affirmed with a small nod, letting my lips curve upwards in a shy grin. "When she's better." Rolith grinned back, and we kept walking towards the stables, hammering out details and coming up with ideas of how the overnight would probably go.

And my stomach did all these funny little flips when Rolith never removed his hand.

Hello, my lovelies. That was a relatively short chapter, I know. :) But I wanted to save most of the excitement for the next chapter. Also, I'll be incredibly busy this afternoon and evening and also all day tomorrow, so you guys get the chapter two days early! :D

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! ^^ Until the next time!

Juliet