A Listening

[Sjira]

(Posted: Tue Jul 17, 2012 10:28 am)

She made her way from the area of the docks when the work there was finished. As she smelled of fish she headed towards the Red Dragon Inn and headed through the back door of the establishment. By way of the stairs known to lead up to the second of the inn's levels, 'jira took a careful route so that she would offend the noses of the patrons as much as possible.

Once she had unlocked the door to her room that she kept there, it was closed and locked behind her. The key was placed to the nearby table and light leather, summer boots were pulled off to be neatly set beside the door.

A trunk at the end of the small bed was opened. Using just the ends of fingerstips she pulled out a simple green dress. As all of her dresses had on them, she glanced at the three little flowers sewn into it near the top, right where ones collarbone would be just above it when it was worn. Only to her were the meaning known since she had never spoken of them: honor, love, devotion.

Only a look to the three, stitched flowers on the dress then it was put across the top of the little trunk after she closed it.

She needed a bath and set about running the hot water for it. Scented, spiced oils that were bought the other day lined the shelves in the tiny room that jutted to the right once one stepped further into the room she rented there.

Soaps, hot stones, and more were on that shelf and to the one below it were towelling and washing cloths. The hot stones were gathering dust, rarely used anymore and without reason to as they were meant to help aid another with sore muscles and relaxing.

Chryrie and Kitty seemed to think that the bathing oils were not selfish, but for one who had walked the bondchain it was very much that. But she was not upset at them for saying as much. Perhaps there was no understanding what was in her heart. She was struggling to gain understanding that they did not find these things selfish.

Time spent alone and the want for reason to laugh and sing again. All these were very selfish things. More, she was striving for them since her return from Llothgar. There was great need for them and more.

The delicate, colored glass of reddish purple was taken from the shelf. She removed its glass stopper and poured enough of the scented oil into the hot waters, just enough for the aroma to fill the room immediately there and seep into the bedroom beyond. Then she put the oils neatly away.

As the waters, hot and added-to, ran into the wooden and sealed tub she unfastened the slender, black belt she often wore. She slid from it the coinpouch and placed both with care on the short, three-legged stool nearby.

The brown working dress smelled terribly of fish and the brackish waters that slurried up against the docks and its great posts. She wriggled out of it and stepped to the edge of the stool to gain entrance into the bathing tub carefully.

Nothing was done but to soak for the longest of whiles. It was when the waters had nearly run over the side that a gasp left her. She blinked and hurriedly reached to turn it off, causing some to spill over the side.

A bit of water spilt, but it was enough in culmination with much more to bring a sigh. Need for sopping it up would be needed after the bath.

The small one eased back, resting against the tub's side and eyes slid closed.

Then she listened. To the noises of others loud enough out in the hall. Anything above the ceiling or the flooring below. Perhaps to listen to self. But mostly, she strove to bring soft distraction in those moments and listen to the inn itself and was gently selfish in the relaxing attempt.