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Date Posted: 22:46:23 11/14/01 Wed
Author: Sarra
Subject: up the stairs
In reply to: Rowan 's message, "Desperate plea for help (sort of)" on 15:52:48 11/14/01 Wed

Sarra was thumbing through the available selections of drink, taking her time. She was not, however, unaware of Ravin making his exit, but by the time she turned to bid him good night he’d already stumbled noisily through the doorway.

Pulling the cork from a bottle with her teeth, she leapt nimbly onto the counter by the cabinet, her energy completely restored and the pain in her arm dampened to a dull ache, though still irksome enough to inspire her to find someone to tend it as soon as was convenient come morning.

The delicate heat of a good brew met her gullet at the first long pull, settling lazily in her stomach though not without a decent kick. Closing her eyes in appreciation, Sarra leaned her head back and took another swallow, savoring every vestige and element of the liquor. It had been much too long since she’d indulged in anything more than basic ale, and even that she didn’t keep on hand, as her ability to restrain herself to drinking only a controlled amount was easily impaired.

The flavor of this one reminded her of the last Nerombian import she’d shared with her brother. While not particularly acclaimed for her drink, the country nevertheless had a few fine selections that were exported elsewhere. It had been, not surprisingly, a farewell toast, and she had been ashamed of the tears she shed. Now, she would do anything to recapture even the briefest increment of time in her brother’s presence…even the few humiliating seconds when he’d chastised her for her display of emotion.

When they were children, he’d been different than adulthood delivered him. She remembered playing in the sun of the meadows outside her father’s estate, losing one another in the long golden grasses only to stumble upon the other giggling sibling momentarily, when the wind stilled and a stir underfoot betrayed a dark-headed youngster’s presence. She remembered circling her tall, somewhat solemn green-eyed brother on her pony, as he corrected her form and signals, yet despite his ploys of strict requirements, she knew that the slightest antic from his beloved Sarra would provoke the goofy smile she so sought to earn.

Blinking with a sigh, Sarra replaced the cork and shoved the bottle back into its place, sliding back to the floor, her good mood dampened by her memories. She’d been too far off in her own thoughts to have noticed Rowan’s “thinking out loud” until this point, when his plea reached her ears.

Back to his room…well, as long as he didn’t mind lending directions, Sarra didn’t see a problem in helping him up the stairs. She nodded with a wry smile and was making her way across the kitchen to help him to his feet, when he spoke again.

“Cripes. Old witch can pleasure herself for all I care.”

Well, now. Arching a brow but saying nothing on that matter, Sarra extended a hand to him, pulling him easily to his feet when he took it, though he wasn’t exactly a light body to heft. Sarra’s strength was not at all limited by her size. She slid an arm around the elf’s waist, easing herself against his side, and started toward the door.

In fact, by the time they reached the stairs, Sarra had discovered that she didn’t mind her proximity to the young man, in fact not at all. He was handsome and had the attraction that the carefree and energy-filled all seemed to possess in spades, and Sarra found herself idly wondering if he wouldn’t mind distracting her from the skeletons rattling in the closet this evening…

She gave herself a firm mental shake as they came to the landing at the top of the stairs, though she didn’t refrain from skimming a thumbnail across the bare skin she’d encountered at his waist, his shirt having hitched up a bit somewhere along their journey. He wasn’t a great deal younger than she was, but younger nonetheless by the look of him, and how would she appreciate being nudged toward her bed by a man if she was too drunk to make it up the stairs on her own?

Admittedly, no man would go any further with Sarra than she wished, no matter what the state of her mind.

“Shut up,” she grumbled to that annoying subconscious portion of her mind, and reluctantly let go of Rowan. Promiscuity was not an admirable quality after all, and she ought to rid herself of it. Now was as good a time as any to start.

“I’m assuming you can make it from here,” she said in aside to Rowan, glancing up at him with a rueful half-smile.

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