A new Squire [Closed to Umberlee]

Marcus took her arm in his hand and studied her wound. "Why didn't you say something?" He asked her worried, not really aware of how inappropriate his touch on her naked body was. It luckily didn't look too bad but still it once again made him feel bad that he had let her go first.

"But yes, some tea would be very nice." He spoke, but still held her arm in his gentle hold.

Umberlee had tensed when he came near her at the door frame but she did not move.  She watched almost as if it was done in slow motion, how he took her arm in his touch and studied it.  She had not realized she held her breath as he spoke as gently as the touch upon her.  

For what seemed far too long to take to respond she looked up at him, her eyes studying the outline of his jaw, the small gentle dent in his flesh that kissed next to his lips.  "It..." she started, very quietly her voice finding a crack in it.  She pulled her arm free and backed up only to find herself against the door frame.  A blush appeared on her cheeks, for unknown reasons, and she flustered instantly.  A complete off character emotion for her to feel, as she quickly cleared her throat and protectively held her arm. "It was hardly worth mentioning." she stated. "I will work on the tea." she did not even run to her small spot in the house, which was hardly a room really, but instead went right to the kitchen, towel and all to begin the tea.

Marcus didn't fight her when she pulled her arm free and actually was rather blind to all she did after it. He had only meant to inspect her wound and there was no further hidden agenda behind his actions. As she left he went the small bathroom and after closing the door he undressed and got in the water.

It luckily still was warm, although it no longer was as clean as it had been when he got it from the well. It felt good to be in the water and he would stay in it until it got cold. Of course it was a shame that people needed dirt to stay healthy, a bath every day could feel very nice but of course there was no better way to catch some disease.

Umberlee did not put on the water for the tea at once.  Instead she happened to come across a small bottle of something more powerful then tea.  She meant to sneak a sip for warmth and to forget her arm, but a sip became two, then a longer third, until most of the bottle was gone.  She only giggled a little, still not with anything more then the towel when she put the kettle over the fire.  The liquid was a gift, its warmth indeed a needed tool to forget the events and the pain that burned her flesh.  She spent a good little while, in the kitchen lost in the dancing flames that warmed the water.  Her eyes a mirror to the golden hues that jumped and sparked.  

There was a brief moment of common sense, a moment that cautioned her to go dress proper, but that moment was forgotten when she caught sight of the moon and its almost royal carpet welcome of silver light into the bathroom.   One step closer and another as quietly as a mouse would sneak a crumb into his home.....

If he had heard her, his form nor his movement showed this.  Soon she was in the bathroom with him, next to him, next to the tub.  She spoke nothing more, but bent down and held a soft cloth over his head, letting the water drip over his long hair.  "My father told me once I had the soul of a warrior and the heart of a goddess." she felt him tense, and though she could see him she did not react as if it was the first man she had laid eyes upon.  

"One night, while sleeping, just him and me in our home, eight men arrived.  Claiming to be warriors of the King himself." she reached for the soap and gently washed his hair, her own head spinning in circles, as she massaged his scalp while talking.  "They claimed to have come for my father as his skill as a blacksmith was needed.  The Kings oldest son was to marry, near the fortnight to follow....he was to make a gift..." there was pause, in her movement and in her touches.  For a moment she just focused on the way the whiskey burned into her blood, which really had been the pain and anger not the whiskey.  "Then they saw me. I was only twelve." 

"They demanded my father to pack his things, and while he turned to do so.  All but one of the men came towards me. The way too many men come to women..." she shivered, and Marcus could hear the shiver if not feel it against him.  She took the water and let it fall over his head washing the soap from him.  "My father took the closest of many blades in our home and attempted to defend... eight men... three held me back from fighting....the others... showed my father what his blades could do..." 

The rest of the story would be difficult as she did not recall much more then the sight of her father ripped, torn and drained of near all his life giving blood.  She trembled now, and Marcus could hear her pain, the pain of years of emotions and questions.  "I knew how to use a blade, I know how to use a blade, for my father taught me..." she stepped back, almost realizing where she was, and what she was doing....

Images of the note with the words scribbled on it flashed into her memory.  Though she was very much with appearance of a woman, she was all girl.  No man had ever been near her with any consent and no man had ever held her trust. No man besides the one that was taken had ever given her reason to do so.  Now tonight she seemed to have forgotten that, and when her guard slipped as did she, Marcus knew a piece of her.  "My arm.... I need to tend to it.  The tea will be waiting." she was gone.  The towel wrapped and almost protecting her and the rest of the untold story she was gone from the room and her Knights side without further chance for him to stop her.

Marcus had been enjoying the bath, his thoughts elsewhere when his squire suddenly entered the room. He was too shocked to respond right away and as she took a soft cloth and focused her attentions on his hair and head. As she spoke about her soul and heart, he wondered what her father would have said about her body, but of course that was not something a father should comment about.

He was just about to comment on her presence in the bathroom when she started her story and he had no choice but to listen. He smiled at first, knowing how prized the skill of a blacksmith could be, but soon that smile was completely gone... to the point he felt rather sick and even the nearly naked company near his naked form in the bath was no distraction.

As she paused several questions came to his mind but before he could reply or ask a question she fled the room. It might not have been an actual fleeing but it felt like it and she deserved it. Once she was gone he stayed in the bath, running his thoughts over the story. How did it continue and why had she told it now.

There was no choice but to stay in the bath until he had thought of the right thing to comment... and he was not very good with words. So it could take a while.

The drink, the day, the story... everything was making her head spin.  She went to change, into the white shirt Marcus had given her.  She fumbled a little with the cords to it, and in the end, they lay loosely with a lazy loop. Her hair was drying, so the softness of the ebony waves danced around a heavy face, large eyes and dancing emotions, while the back of her hair still held dampness from her own bath.  She bandaged her raw flesh, and considered going to bed rather then joining him at the table for tea.  Something, and she may never understand what or why, made her choose to return to the kitchen, and as she did so, she wobbled a little the effects of the whiskey a bit more heavily into her bloodstream.  

Tea did not seem to be what she sought, and so she became a bit more nosy in the kitchen cupboards, and was happy to find another bottle.  Instead of pouring the tea into her cup, she poured a full cup full of more liquid of golden warmth and enjoyed it.  Tomorrow her headache would be the cost of her choice, and yet today it was a payment she gladly would accept.  

"Oh won't you hurry and give me company this night?" she sighed and spoke louder then her mind intended to speak, staring at her Knights cup.   What indeed made her speak the story of her pain, and hurts and most kept emotions and nightmare into his ear? What made her admit for the first moment, her attraction to his strong lines on his face, his solid arms that held that silly spear with ease, and those wisps of hair that kissed his chest and stomach as she broke all forms of decency just moments ago.   

A curse, onto her own self, of loud grumble was silenced with another long swallow of whiskey.  She was indeed a bit giggly, yet attempted to be serious, and she focused on the night of the past, and the day they just held.   

When Marcus joined her, he would see her bent down, cup in hand offering Iwin some of her own choice tea of the night.  Her body leaning heavily against the table, and her shirt swinging as loose as the long lengths of her hair.  The goose more interested in nipping at the dangling toys of string and hair then the strong odor of her whiskey.  A game together bird and young woman played, with giggles and the odd honking of the bird.

Marcus hadn't found the words to say... what could one say after such a story... but when he heard her words, he did finish his bath not much later. He dried himself and then slipped on the clothes he had been wearing earlier. He didn't have much clothing and what he did have was in his room.

Umberlee didn't seem to realize it often, but Marcus was nearly twice her age and often saw he as nothing more than a girl. But when he entered the kitchen and saw her bend over in nothing more than a shirt... his shirt... he swallowed loudly. He of course was bigger but in this pose the shirt looked rather indecent on her... although it did cover her ass.

He heard her giggles and saw the bottle of whiskey on the table. It had been a gift and saved for a special occasion so part of felt rather upset to see it touched and opened. But even that was not enough to shake the effects of the sight from him.

He coughed to make his presence known just as Iwin managed a stronger grab on the shirt string and pulled the weak knot loose. There was nothing between Marcus and his squire that would hide the view of how affected he was, but he hoped the drink would prevent her from noticing and understanding.

At the same time he hadn't succeeded in battling his own urges. It had been a long time since he had been with a woman.

There were more giggles, and she had not even heard him approach.  She startled a bit when Marcus coughed, and she sat rather quickly which made her head spin even more so then expected.  She stood, and immediately wobbled a bit, holding onto the table.  She had no idea how her shirt made her look, and as Marcus had hoped really did not notice his looks upon the image she created.  "Tea..." she said, picking up his cup and brought it to him, with more then a quarter of it landing onto the floor before reaching his hands.  "I was playing with Iwin..." she said as he took the cup, she was looking into his eyes, "I also am not drinking tea.." she giggled some more and dared to lean forward teasing him with movement and her eyes, "would you like to know what I am drinking?" she said and she licked her lips as if it was an invitation for him to do so as well. "Perhaps you would like to drink something other then tea also..." she grinned, took back the tea cup and poured the contents out the window before filling his cup with his good whiskey.  "You might as well enjoy it, we fought good today My Knight... Sir Marcus... My guardian and teacher.." she was very tipsy and it was good as her arm was rather throbbing, but not nearly as much as her heart as she brought up a too strong memory sharing with Marcus.  What she wanted was something she never asked or realized before in her life.  Something she never had before.  How could she want something she never had needed or never had thought would help....

"You look good naked." she said bluntly. Of course her mind was ten mins behind her statement as he wasn't naked before her now.  It was perhaps something she would deny saying come the morning. Perhaps it was something she did not even realize she was saying now.

Iwin kept holding the string as Umberlee moved around, forcing the goose to follow her but his weight was enough to make the string longer on one end while it started to escape at the other end. But right now neither Marcus nor his squire seemed to notice a thing of that. He watched her as she poured the drink out of the window and filled his cup with the last remainder of whiskey.

His fingers brushed against her hand as he moved to take the cup from her as she made her blunt comment. He nearly dropped the cup and felt very affected by her. She might be drunk from whiskey but his judgment was clouded by his lust. Part of him knew nothing good could come from this but yet he spoke. And he did so with a hoarse voice. "I am sure you do too..." No longer he saw her as just some young girl.

Umberlee giggled more, as her goose provided quite the distraction from a very intense moment.  At least a moment that could have been intense between a man and a woman, most certainly a drunk woman, and a man whose eyes declared lust.....

She turned sadly away from Marcus, perhaps it was protection, perhaps it was instinct, but truth would speak, it was from magnitude of energy that she drew in one breath looking at him as his words also effected her.    For a moment in her mind, words danced, teased and welcomed an invitation to have him indeed see just how she appeared in the context.....

Blush kissed her cheeks, both a mix of whiskey and passionate kiss from his words.  She turned at safe enough distance and admitted again, quite openly thanks to the drink and her state, "I almost wanted you to kiss me. Dangerous stuff this whiskey. Tis a good thing I got rid of it for you." she now turned back to Iwin who was still determined to get the entire string from her shirt.  

In a moment the struggle from the goose became successful and she now stood with no closure on her shirt.  Thankfully it only revealed most of her torso, and a deep shadowed definition of her fullness but it did not give Marcus or her much more then that.  She coyly brought her arms around her front to protect her.  "I hate memories.  I hate how it can hurt, I hate a lot of what has happened in my past.  I really hope that you can help me not hate my future." she said quietly, now looking young again, but yet there would be no youthful appearance in Marcus eyes upon her.   "I really hate how much it hurts." she said but now was rubbing her arm, and she almost held tears in her eyes, though not one fell.

There was depth to her words, a hidden omen within the whisper she offered him.  Marcus could very well know what it would be like to be a true Knight.  A true protector, a man of all things wonderful and good..... but it was very much in his control, in his choices, his words, his actions.   Thankfully she was not a Knight yet, so such decisions unknown, dangerous ones were not fully resting on her.   

Her eyes tore into his own, deep, fully round.  It seemed they were searching.  Asking.  Probing and inquiring with silent curiosity.  The whiskey broke down her barrier for a moment, but her perception and sense were hardly affected.  A squire before her knight without a shield.  Without her shield as he held the sword.

As Umberlee turned away from him, Marcus regained some of the control he had lost. Temperance was his virtue and he always did his best to be in control of his actions and not to rush into anything. But it was clear that her state of undress and her giggling affected him and he made a step closer to her. It was just one little step, one that she most likely hadn't even noticed, but at the same time it was a huge one. It was a step over a line.

He grimaced as his squire commented on getting rid of his 'dangerous' whiskey, but what could one really say at this time. And then with a snap, Iwin tumbled backwards, the complete string that once was in Umberlee's shirt now in its beak. Marcus wasn't sure if geese ate worms, but Iwin surely acted like it... although now that the string was captured it seemed to lose some of its appeal to the animal. For a moment Marcus was given a very nice view... less than some women in the tavern offered... more than most women offered him.

Soon Umberlee blocked it with her arms, but still revealed hints of her flesh. Of her very tempting flesh. She looked so young and so soft and right now the curiosity of young was winning of the dangers of young. But then she spoke and her words were much more protection than her arms. He wasn't drunk... hadn't even gotten the chance to taste his whiskey.... so he heard her words and listened to them. He saw the pain and felt it, especially after her earlier story.

"I won't let you get hurt..." He promised her. "And we will see to it that no one gets hurt like that when we are around." He continued. Again he moved closer, but this time not because he wanted to feel her. Part of him wanted to pull her close, wrap his arms around her and promise her with his body that he would keep her safe. But he never was too sure of such actions, so instead he rested his hand on her shoulder and hoped she felt the same promise in that gesture. With the size of his hand, his fingers slightly caressed the exposed flesh her shirt was giving, but nothing that really was inappropriate.

"Perhaps you should get some rest..." He suggested, but left the decision hers.

Umberlee felt the warmth of his hand on her.  She closed her eyes, as she digested his words.  Words that danced with emotions of her own, and words that seemed to jolt her as he spoke them.   "Drink your glass so at least I am not drinking alone." she whispered as his hand was still on her.   She wanted to turn, wanted to get lost in his features, his words, the pretend moment of intense desire and lust.  She wanted nothing more then to let his hand upon her shoulder push down her shirt, and make her body feel passion and longing of what a man could do to a woman.  A touch she had to this day always avoided for none felt right....

He seemed not anywhere near the wave link she wished at this moment for him to be on.  She felt young, and suddenly foolish for mistaking what must be because of the whiskey as feelings for her Knight.  Perhaps her years of lonely nights, and empty company were surfacing and the pain of sharing her story and the rush of their earlier fight had made her too vulnerable.   

He did not even flinch when she told him she wished to kiss him.  Her lips felt suddenly cold, and her body shivered along with the sensation.   She nodded as he offered to her to get rest, she only wished it had been the rest of a woman, but instead it would be the rest of a lonely girl.  

With a soft whistle she called to her goose, and Marcus could if he choose to see this body language over the rest, her soft shoulders drop and her entire form become anything but sultry.  She stepped with slight wobble, far more sober then she should for the liquid burning and working magic inside of her and said, "Aye, I will get rest. Thank you." and with that, she and Iwin moved passed Marcus' bedroom, to her own little spot in the house, and she eyed with venom how small and uninviting it seemed.  

Hot tears continued to threaten, but they were not from her now forgotten arm, they were from being rejected by the first man she ever could claim she held want of.  She sat in the bed, her head spinning wildly and her focus was on her breathing and the deep searing sensitiveness to the vast change that she had hoped to have experienced.  

In the morning, it would be soundly remembered but dismissed as her being silly forgetting that perhaps he indeed held nothing for the gender of her own body, but that more of his own.  Her focus would not be on silly feelings of a girl, nor trust of the heart, but more on her growth as a Squire, her growth as a woman aiming to become someone that could make her father proud.  No more guards down, no more moments of weakness.  She was Umberlee Mc Norgriff and she would let nothing hurt her ever again.  

Umberlee turned, her back to the opening of her nook, and her eyes dug into the wall, her body well relaxed and yet her mind far from such.

Part of Marcus was happy that Iwin had gotten the string when he did... who knew what he would have said or done after his squire's confession just before it. Actions made while drunk often weren't wise... but most of the times they were less bad than actions made out of lust. But as he watched his squire walk, knowing she just wore the shirt... followed by Iwin dragging along the string as his token of victory, Marcus still was very affected by the sight.

He followed her to the bed and as she turned away, he sat down next to her. The goose stayed on the floor for now, nearly killing himself with the string as he either played with it or tried to kill it. Carefully Marcus took hold of her arm. He had big, strong, powerful hands but right now he tried to be gentle. Still he didn't offer her much choice as he guided her wounded arm towards him.

He was shocked to see the actual wound... perhaps he had given too much attention to other matters first. With a finger he caressed her arm, near the wound but not touching it. Before he had been sure that the hurt she spoke of was the story she had shared earlier, but right now he wasn't too sure anymore. "I am sorry you got hurt. I will do all I can to make sure you are safe now." He promised her and did mean both, and all other kinds, of hurt.

As she looked at him, he looked into her eyes. Right now he wasn't a knight. Instead he was a man that would be very happy to receive a kiss from her. As the thought ran through his mind, he actually brought his face a bit closer to hers. Just a small hint, but even to the most innocent of women, it was a very clear movement. "I shouldn't be here..." He spoke, but made no move to leave.

If she had not drank so much, she would have tensed hearing him follow into her 'bedroom'.  She stayed quiet as he sat, but her body told him she knew he was there.  Her breathing had slowed some from earlier, but of course that was because she was at rest.... certainly not because the distance and tension between them had dissipated. 

As he spoke, she turned to him slightly, still her body faced the wall, but her shoulder and eyes were turned towards him.  Her eyes read into his face, life and lessons taught her no man was worth their words in trust, but still her heart argued against the mind.

For now mind was stronger between squire and Knight, and she only spoke with her eyes. Sharing with him the fears she had of his spoken vow to make sure she is was safe.   The promise, if such could be claimed as one would be a sweet solace to a world she guarded against.  

His touch on her arm, brought a rush of a different feeling to her.  Where pain throbbed, now other body parts seemed too, and she swallowed very hard at his words.  For a moment she closed her eyes and dared to allow the demand her heart spoke for a kiss from his lips, but she quickly chastised herself reminding herself that if he had wanted to he would have earlier.   

Instead as he moved forward, an invitation on all accounts had she not brought her shield up because of earlier she reached for his face, gently cradling it with her hand as she brushed a thumb over his lips.  She studied his features, finding him lustrously sexy with his stubble shadow and perhaps hardened lines of life and lessons. "Aye, you should none be here, certainly after offering word of keeping me safe...." she whispered.   

Umberlee indeed seemed to be in the most risky kind of danger as she sat up, guiding him closer, even as he had to move slightly away.  The distance between their faces was even closer then his movement had brought, and she did not loose eye contact with him.  As she spoke he could feel the heat of her breath and once again it was delicately off pattern. "Yet here you are Marcus, why?" 

Marcus was no hero when it came to women. They were hard to understand and every well intended action could easily be taking wrongly. And some actions just were wrong. He held his breath when she caressed his face and lips. As she sat up closer, he brought his hand to her face and gently touched her cheek. And as he breathed again, it caressed her as well.

"I am not sure." He said, weakly smiling. She hadn't said he should leave, but perhaps she was thinking it. It wouldn't be good to ask if he should leave, so for now he just stayed. Part of him wanted to apologize that she got hurt... his other hand was still holding her arm, but he decided against that as well. So for a moment it was just quiet in the house as they touched each other.

Well, mostly quiet as Iwin still fought with his captured string.

There was something oddly frustrating with his answer.  As curiously as that was, it was more puzzling to her why he did not kiss her yet.  Certainly he was close enough any would have thought them lovers.  His breath was warm, strongly him and so close.  Her body screamed for more and her flesh burned for touch. His touch.   She closed her eyes silently cursing as she was forced to choose to give in and take lead or not know his kiss....

At the very moment she went to move forward for claim of his lips, surrendering in defeat her desire to be wanted, Iwin squawked in such a way they both were given an sharp startle.  There seemed no reason, except perhaps his final outburst at the death of the shirt string.  A complete victory celebrated with a dramatic battle cry so loud and so impressive from such a small little bird, that it even seemed to startle him.

The rush of adrenaline from the intensity between them and the jolt with the fright of the bird sent sharp tingling pain to her arm and she pulled back in swift haste.   "Damn bird, both of you get out!" she cursed, reality now crashing in on the mood that had been thick between Squire and Knight.   

Frustration, in disguise of anger at the deep disappointment Umberlee felt as she shoo'd both her Knight and her pet out of her little nook was beyond anything she could hide.  The hot tears she had fought before were indeed no longer held back, as soon as she was free from both of their sights, and she buried her face against the blanket as she drew her knees up to her chest.

There were moments even the strongest of women, no matter the age, no matter the experience could not hold back tears.  The emptiness of the hope she held that this man would wish from her, something so many had sought .... 

She felt as defeated as the men they had conquered that day.  She felt alone, and she felt broken.  She felt ugly and moody and just plain drunk and tired now.   It was not known how much time passed before the hot tears were finished and her body found a deep emotional rest.  

Whiskey and tears in place of what she had indeed could have claimed would have been the single most erotic and arousing moment of her life to date.   Her shield would sharpen, her heart better guarded-- and her hope would be safely under lock and hidden key when she woke from the events of the day.   Perhaps, but doubtful she wouldn't remember just how close she had become to falling for the most dangerous man in her life yet.  Something she would die fighting against now.

For a moment Marcus' lips brushed against Umberlee's, but neither of them really noticed it as it happened during the startle from Iwin's squawk. After that the moment was broken and both man and goose where chased from the squire's little corner. Of course it was for the best, only trouble could come from knight and squire getting to know each other too well... but still it was highly frustrating.

As Marcus found his bed he kept reminding him that love had very little to do with his feelings, it had been lust and of course it was bad to lust after someone without loving being part of it. He had been willing to take advantage of her state and right now he really felt bad about that. Another part of him felt very bad that it hadn't happened.

Finding his sleep was quite the struggle this night, even with the previous night having been a very short one outside the town's walls.

Sleep came, and it was a deep sleep.  Full of dreams and activity between her mind and heart.  It was a difficult to wake morning when her eyes decided to flutter open and instantly she felt the throbbing of her head, and the mirrored throb in her arm.  "Oie." was all she said, her mouth dry and her body aching.  Her thoughts were not first to fall on Marcus, nor the goose that at some point came back in and onto her bed.  They were on the horrible feeling her stomach gave when she dared to stretch just a little.  

Drinking was always a wonderful form of entertainment, but at times certainly as this seemed to prove, it came with quite the price tag.  She ran her hand over her face, and took a good look at the swollen red flesh on her torn arm.  

It wasn't until she sat up and saw the cordless shirt, now mostly hanging over one shoulder, exposing far more then appropriate flesh she felt another blush burn through her.  Fluttering memories of the evening past danced inside of her mind and she touched her lips.  They had wanted to be kissed, they had wanted to be tasted.  She had wanted him. 

Truth be told, those feelings even now as she stood, forcing herself for balance and focus she still would seek a kiss.  That however was not to be, and she would ensure the chances of it happening would never come again.  He was her knight, and no matter the odd feelings that seemed to form inside of her, she would crush the emotions with reminder that she was not a typical woman so quick to fall to fantasy of romance and appeal.  Even when her knight grew more handsome every time she looked.   

"I blame ye Iwin, ye are suppose te care for me like I care for ye. Yet ye be a lazy plump thing.." she grinned pat his sleepy head and took to changing into her own clothes and finding water at once.  "I could drink a riverfull o'water it feels." she said pulling her shirt over her head and wandered out of her nook. 

She was not looking forward to seeing Marcus, and wondered if like most times, he would just ignore last night as he ignored so much before.  One could hope.

Iwin looked up at her, the string from her shirt in his beak. He didn't seem very guilty or ready to accept the blame for what had happened. Marcus on the other hand hadn't stopped feeling guilty and therefore it had been a very very long night on him. And when he finally had found his sleep, his dreams were filled with images of his squire. Very tempting images of her in various states of undress. He had fought against the images and that was a more exhausting fight than their fight against the men the previous day.

When he woke after a short night, his feelings on the matter hadn't really changed. He shouldn't have let her affect him so much. She was just a kid to most standards... well, his standards, not really that of other people. He wasn't sure if she would still remember the events of the previous night, not with the drinking she had done. And he was not going to be the one to tell her.

He succeeded to arrive in the kitchen before she did and had just finished preparing a strange looking drink when she joined him. "Here, drink this. It will help." He promised her, keeping his voice soft. He didn't know much about herbs, but dealing with drunk people was something every knight learned at some point.

Umberlee groaned inwardly seeing him already in the kitchen.  Yet even with the groan a small smile could be felt inside of her chest.  That silly warm fuzzy feeling people claim they can be consumed with certainly seemed to be the best description for her chest.  Thankfully though, her head felt far more dominant and was quick to take such a fleeting sensation away from her before she could acknowledge it.

"Ug...thank'e." Umberlee croaked taking the cup and looked at it.  "It looks as bad as ye do." she didn't quite snarl, but her lip curled a bit at the idea of drinking the contents down.  "Why do ye look how I feel?" she plopped her tush down on the chair and continued to stare at the cup.  She really wasn't sure if she was going to keep it down if she drank it.

"Just drink it, trust me... but yes, best do so in one gulp. You don't have to worry about it coming back up." Her look was not very comforting to her thoughts about him, but could also just be caused by the way she was feeling after her drinking. He wasn't exactly sure how much she had ended up drinking, but her behaviour had shown enough. And it only made him feel worse how he had almost abused the situation. "I should have protected you." He said, and could be referring to the drinking, the fight with the men or the fact that instead of putting her in bed, he had almost 'put her in bed'.

"How is your arm?" He asked her, not to change the subject but because it was a real worry. And after a night it often showed better how much it was healing or not.

Umberlee grunted once more, before indeed doing as her Knight suggested and took back the contents of the cup in one extremely long and torturous gulp.  She gagged a little, but managed to indeed keep it down.  Soon after she put her head down, forehead first onto the table with a thud.  "Ugh." she grunted just as she heard his words 'I should have protected you'  

For a moment those words danced around her throbbing mind, and she too wondered what he meant exactly.  What she remembered, what she wanted, what had been.....  "I rather think you did protect." she finally said in a way that sounded harsher then she meant it.  But none the less it was spoken.  

When he asked how her arm was, she turned her head, but still kept it on the table. "Seems still attached." and it seemed her normal stand off attitude was attached again too. "Why do you care now?" she just kept her head down, and looked like she had been swallowed up, and spit back out by a great sea monster.  She felt pretty much similar to that also.

It was hard to judge what part of her mood was because of the hangover and which part was caused by the events of the previous day. Marcus also wasn't sure about how to take her comment that he 'did protect'. Was she happy nothing had happened or was she upset it had gotten so close. "Yesterday I didn't know you had it and after a night's rest it is easier to see if things better or worse." He said.

It was a good thing they were back in town in case the wound got infected or gave more issues. Of course he wasn't much of a doctor.

Umberlee stared at him for a moment.  Perhaps it was because she was feeling very yucky, her body and mind exhausted from the night before. "Very observant Knight you are." she said and offered him her arm.  "When you are done playing doctor I am going to start the days chores. Your miracle drink has done wonders. Thanks."  it was difficult to tell if she was sarcastic or not, she had a magical way of words and her tone.

Marcus nodded and didn't push any further. They both had their demons to deal with it and most likely that would go better without each other's company. "Don't worry about the chores, I will do them later. Just give your arm some rest and enjoy your day." He offered.

"I will first spend some time in the mill again as a lot of people need the flour." He told her. "Do you need anything from the store later?" He asked her

Umberlee shook her head at his offer about the store.  She really couldn't think of anything at all she needed, and the sooner they had space the better it would be for the two of them.  

Once she had the house to herself, she began the chores anyway.  Nothing big needed to be done, and perhaps later if she felt okay, she would even begin the garden and make the house look a little more appealing to the eye.  They always said a womans touch was like no other, and she really would enjoy placing hers in an otherwise forgotten setting.

She wasn't hungry, she was more thirsty, and more determined to keep her mind busy.  So often it became to engulfed in thoughts and scenarios that consumed her.   He would be gone most of the day so she gladly went to making the day her own.