As evening deepened into night, the reality of our situation became inescapable. We were truly isolated, dependent on each other until the storm passed. Well, I was dependent on Becken. I imagined he could survive with just his hands and wits for weeks at a time in this terrain.
For someone who prided herself on self-sufficiency, the forced dependence created a hollow feeling in my chest.
“We should get some rest,” Becken finally said. “Sleep is probably our best option.”
“What about Azool?” I asked, worried about the tiny sorhox who needed a bottle.
“Aunt Inla alternates with me. She’ll take good care of him.”
I nodded, exhaustion dragging on my limbs. The day’s events had drained me completely, and I was sore in all sorts of places.
“Need help getting reading for bed?” he asked, sounding clinical rather than patronizing, thankfully.
“I can manage.” Pride made me attempt to stand unassisted, but pain shot through my ankle when I put weight on it. I gasped, grabbing the bedpost for support.
Becken was beside me in a flash, one arm around my waist. “Lean on me.”
“I hate to bring up bodily functions…”
He frowned down at me before his face cleared and color rose into his chiseled cheeks.
“I imagine you peed into the snow when you were outside.” I wasn’t going to discuss poop until it became an emergency. “I can do the same thing.” If he could get me outside. Turn his back. Let me…do it like the beasts in the forest.
“We have a bathing cabin here.”
“Hallelujah.” Which was very Christmas-y of me, actually.
“I’ll carry you there.”
“I’d protest, but I’m not sure I could make it on my own.” I wasn’t even sure where the bathing cabin was. If I was in luck, it would be adjacent to this cabin, though I hadn’t seen any other structures in this part of the clearing when we arrived, just some on the right.
He grunted and unlatched the door, quickly returning to my side to lift me into his arms.
We forged our way through the snow. Or he did, moving swiftly across the clearing to one of the other buildings. Inside, he set me down in front of a sink, gesturing to the door with a stall. It looked like any other public restroom. There was even a shower, though I wasn’t sure if the water would work with it was this cold.
“Don’t put paper in the toilet and don’t flush,” he said, confirming my suspicions. Stooping down, he twisted something below the sink. “We drained the pipes before it got cold, but I’ll go turn the water on in the building from the back. Be quick. I’ll drain the pipes after we’ve finished.” He nudged his head toward a small closet built into the right wall. “Toiletries are there, and you’re welcome to use them. I will once you’re done.”
The few steps to the toilet felt like miles, each movement sending fresh pain through my ankle. When I reached it, I sank down gratefully, embarrassment warring with relief.
Finished, I placed the toilet paper in the small trash can and hobbled back out to the sink. The pipes rattled and the water sputtered, but it flowed. While Becken did his thing on the toilet, I found a toothbrush and some soap in the cabinet and washed up quickly, drying with paper towels from the dispenser.
He emerged and did the same, brushing his tusks and teeth with care. He stripped off his shirt (gasp) and quickly bathed in the sink. I tried not to drool over his glorious expanse of muscles. He donned his shirt after blotting dry with paper towels, and honestly, it was a crime that he needed to get dressed again.
“Ready?” he asked, his gaze gliding down my front.
I shouldn’t feel heat from a neutral glance, but I did.
Lifting my chin, I met his eyes. “Yup.”
He swept me up and carried me through the snow, and yes, this time, I did internally call it carrying me over the threshold when he went inside.
The bed, while king-size, was still just one bed, and not one made for an orc. After he lowered me to the surface, I positioned myself on the right edge, pulling several of the blankets over me. Despite the cold making my breath visible, the blankets provided plenty of warmth. They smelled of cedar and whatever detergent they used.
Becken moved around the cabin, checking the lock on the door, as if anyone would bother trying to get in, adjusting our supplies, extinguishing the lamp, preparing for the night. A rustle of his clothing rang out in the dark, reminding me I was still sitting on the bed fully clothed.
What was I supposed to wear to bed? What I had on seemed the best option when sharing with someone who was almost a stranger, but that wouldn’t be comfortable.
I opted to unfasten and drag my bra through the sleeves of my t-shirt, remove my pants, and climb under the rest of the covers in my shirt and panties. Not much different than some PJs, right?
