P. Power - Knight of the Realm

Right.

Well wasn't he just a provincial hick, then?

Tor had no business telling them how to live their lives in their own place. If they went to Two Bends, the rules there were different, but here? Well… they weren't exactly being discrete, were they? So maybe that would be an issue. It wasn't his business, but it seemed a little mean to Count Ward. He just sat and watched the crowd. Apparently the high royalty weren't allowed to dance or something? Or maybe he just didn't feel like it? His pendant was black and blue swirls after all. Maybe he realized that things were darker than Maria did? That seemed odd, because she kind of seemed the brains of the operation, but there it was, Marvin Ward, pensive and gloomy, in front of everyone.

At about eleven Tor made his way to his little house. The sounds from the party would continue, he knew, but he could block them out. It took effort and more than once people pounded on his door, which caused him to rouse a little each time. The third time Tor also heard a woman’s voice and it sounded urgent, scared, so he pulled himself up from the work he was doing to check on the situation. His mind had been deep and really, Tor didn't come all the way out, holding the pattern he’d been working on the whole time.

When he got there a lady was sleeping on his doorstep, passed out drunk. It wasn't anyone he recognized either, not even from the party, but her top was half off and several men were walking around shiftily a ways off. Three of them. They stared at Tor, their looks far from friendly. Had they been trying to have their way with her, in this weakened condition? Tor glared back and walked past the woman protectively, which got them to move off fast. He didn't even have a shield on, having been working, so he quickly pulled the woman in and locked the door. Running out to play hero like that was stupid of him. Tor blamed the working state. His natural inclination was to protect people and common sense kind of faded when he went deep enough.

What should he do? Nothing came to mind at all. Let her sleep it off, he guessed. With effort he moved her over to one of the beds, the one farthest away from the corner he took, and got her lying flat. Very carefully he fixed her white top, not touching her flesh at all, so she wouldn't wake up with her breasts hanging out in a strange place.

Trance state or not, he knew that would be too weird to think a good thing.

Then he went back to work, just hoping she wasn't an assassin cleverly using his known weaknesses to get to him. A frightened and helpless woman at his door would be let in, and anyone that knew him at all could figure that out, couldn't they? Since he was able to finish working and didn't have his throat cut at all, she probably wasn't. Still, when that was done he put his shield back on before he slept.

He drifted off more easily than he thought he would, the woman’s light snores comforting in a way. Tor woke to find her just standing in the middle of the room, no lights had been turned on, but the shutters let a little in around the edges, so that they'd seem real.

Tor slowly got up and opened them, one by one. It seemed less off-putting than just turning on the magical lights on the ceiling. If the lady with him wasn't a bit scared, she was made of sterner stuff than he was. That or insane. Either way, being polite seemed to make sense.

“Hello.” He spoke softly, having learned that people that had been drinking normally felt sick the next day. That should be sign that it wasn't a good plan, but people did it anyway and always claimed they had a good time, no matter how bad things had gotten.

The woman looked at him and smiled, wincing as she did.

“Hey… Um, is there a restroom around here somewhere? Maybe a place to clean up too?” She didn't introduce herself, so Tor didn't either. He just pointed to the correct rooms and listed them off. He decided to make some copies of things, just in case they went over well enough, and was just finishing that when a knock came at his front door.

A soft knock that he almost didn't hear at first.

Tor made sure his shield was on, just in case it was the woman’s jealous boyfriend, but it turned out to be Petra, who'd brought him a tray of food, since everyone else was probably going to be sleeping late. She was obviously hung over too, but didn't whine about it like most people did. Tor set up the table with plates and gestured to the seat next to his then got a pitcher of water and chilled it in the freeze box for a minute, then had to break the ice on top up to drink it, the field working a little too well it seemed. When he came back out the woman who'd been taking a bath, from the sound of it, came padding out nude and sopping wet.

“Do you have a towel or something? I… Petra? How are you!” The woman ran across the room, leaving a trail of water and grabbed his friend, obviously her friend too, who still sat, hugging her tightly. And damply, Petra's clothing got soaked instantly.

“Martya? Oh!”

Hugs continued. After a bit, when she straightened up, showing off dark nipples and pubic hair openly, making Tor stiffen a little more than was probably polite. Then she was the one walking around nude. He explained the drying system and how if she held her hand or any other body part, on the sigil built into the wall, she'd be hit by warm air, which would let her dry quickly. It wasn't a towel, but it worked well enough and could be built in.

Petra and he ate in silence, but the girl kept smirking at him. Did she think he slept with Martya, who was obviously her old friend? Tor tried to look at the situation from her perspective. Naked girl running around his place, washing up and acting like she belonged there… Yep. That's what he would have thought first too. Tor wondered if he should ask to sleep with the woman now, just so when people talked about them it would be true.

When she came back out she bowed to Tor, a low humble thing that looked genuine and had to make her head hurt, at least she grabbed at it like it did. At least she'd put her clothes back on. The stuff was nearly see through in the bright morning light, but it wasn't nude, making it possible to look at her without splitting the front of his pants open.

“Oh, Pet. Last night was awful.” The woman started, her voice woeful. “Farrell and his friends caught me out drunk and alone, I mean really drunk, and were pulling me down, probably to have back-door sex, you know how they are, can't even be bothered to do it properly if your drunk enough? So I ran away and found this, door and then passed out. I don't know what happened after that, but my behind doesn't hurt and I haven't had sex at all that I can tell, so this fellow is obviously a better man than Farrell. Which isn't hard, but still… I… don't know where I am. One of the magic houses obviously…” She clumped into one of the chairs without waiting to be invited, since they were obviously all friends now. Tor smiled, wondering if things were really just that easy here, or if it was just Martya. She looked miserable, if clean enough, though in yesterdays clothing.

He really needed a way to quickly launder clothing built in to the structures. He had water, and could heat it. That didn't give him soap, but he could make the water swirl or go back and forth rapidly to do the scrubbing for him, right? Then use the clothing dryer field… He'd have to work on it. Really though, could he clean the clothing without water? Just organize a field that would carry all the dirt and oil away from it? That… seemed really doable. It was just a variation of the earth moving field. It would just have to recognize fabric.

Martya grabbed her head again and moaned softly. Petra didn't, but looked ready to throw up. Tor also needed to come up with a hangover cure. If he did he was going to charge a lot for it though, silly people should learn to just drink less, shouldn't they? He wondered for a second what would happen if the healing field was used. It should help with illness, was this like that, a sickness? Poisoning maybe.