It was nearly midnight by the time Gideon and Surelin returned to the inn. The same clerk who’d been part of the hubbub earlier was still on duty at the front desk, and he watched the pair warily as they climbed the stairway to the second floor. Gideon was too exhausted to care.

Surelin entered the room ahead of him, and sat down on the left-hand couch with her ruck still on her back. An exhausted sigh exploded from her as she slipped her shoulders out from under the straps.

Gideon watched her as he dropped his own ruck on the opposite couch, and made a connection.

“That first time you walked into the room,” he said. “When you dumped the sack on the floor. I thought you were just trying to piss me off, but that’s not it, is it? You dropped the sack because you couldn’t hold it anymore.”

A mix of anger and embarrassment spread across her face. “Sorry I’m not a musclebound giant like you!”

Gideon blinked. “No, uh… I’m just surprised. I guess a princess wouldn’t normally do that kind of thing. Carry something heavy.”

She stood up and stormed past him towards the bathroom. “I’m taking a bath.”

He shrugged and bent over his ruck, unbuckling the top flap. He wanted a drink before bed. “Alright. You do that.”

Surelin paused after grabbing the bathroom door's handle. She now looked worried as she turned back towards Gideon.

He pulled the whiskey bottle out from his ruck, and looked up at her when he felt her eyes on him.

“What? What’s wrong?”

She blinked rapidly and opened the door. “It’s nothing...” She muttered as she stepped inside.

Gideon heard the bathroom door’s lock click into place.

What was that about?

He shook his head, and set the bottle down on the couch. She could be very difficult to understand at times.

He loosened the buckle keeping his claymore strapped to his back, and then undid the knots for his armor. Once his equipment was off, he dug through his ruck and pulled out one of his new shirts, along with a pair of shorts. He changed out of his old, dirty clothing, and enjoyed the freshness of the new clothing against his skin.

Gideon heard the bath begin to run. He grabbed his claymore, and the whiskey, then walked over and sat down on the bed. Once he was comfortable he pulled the whetstone out of his pocket and set it down on the bed next to him. With that done, he pulled his claymore out of its sheath and set the blade against the whetstone.

It had been an extremely long day, perhaps one of the longest days of his life, but as he settled the blade in the proper position he felt himself starting to relax. He took a quick swig from the whiskey bottle before he began. It had a powerful, oaky flavor, and he smiled as he felt it warming his insides all the way down to his stomach.

He set the bottle down and began to work, zoning out as he rubbed the edge of the blade back and forth against the whetstone.

Why am I helping Surelin? I’ve never given anyone else the kind of help I gave her today. I’ve ignored plenty of other people with greater need than her.

He paused to take another drink.

Loso is very far away, and the road isn’t easy. The Lake Men are crawling all over it. I committed myself to a hard journey on a whim, a journey I’m not really going to get anything out of.

He flipped the blade over. Surelin’s angry face during her lecture in Abraham’s house appeared in his mind’s eye.

I care about what she thinks of me. He realized. Why?

A different memory came to him, this time of Surelin sitting across from him on the couch, her arms and legs crossed as she stared out the window. He remembered the deep sadness he saw in her eyes when she talked about how her parents died.

We both lost parents at around the same time, but I only lost one. She lost both.

He shook his head. That wasn’t it, or at least, not entirely.

The memory of Surelin’s defiant face in the temple district came to him then, followed by the memory of her running up and telling him she’d like to go to Loso after all.

She’s brave. I like that. I wish I was more like her.

His mind wandered in random directions as he resumed the sharpening, and he was still lost in thought when Surelin stepped out of the bathroom. Her hair looked a bit wet, and she glanced at him as she walked over to the couch. She sat down next to her ruck, avoiding his gaze.

“You done?”

She nodded.

He sheathed his claymore and stood up. “My turn for a bath, then.”

As his hand closed around the doorknob, she called out to him.

“Gideon.”

He let go of it and turned to her.

“Can I trust you?”

Realization set in. Ah. That’s what was on her mind.

“Yes, you can.” He said. “But you shouldn’t have to rely only on my word.”

She watched him as he walked over to his ruck and began to dig through it. After a few seconds he found what he was looking for: Dance’s folding buck knife.

He pulled it out of its holster and unfolded it. Surelin’s eyes widened as he offered her the knife and its holster.

“Here. You can have this.”

She glanced between the knife and his face. “Um... I don’t know how to use it.”

“It’s easier than it looks. Use the sharp parts on the bad guys.”

She accepted it with hesitation, and studied it with wide-eyed curiosity as she turned it about in her left hand.

“Good? Alright then.”

She was quiet this time as he stepped into the bathroom. He ran the water and stripped out of his clothing as the tub filled up. Once it was full, he stepped into it gingerly and sat down. The hot water made him feel almost giddy, and he washed himself with a big smile, enjoying the feeling of getting clean that he’d been cruelly robbed of a few hours earlier.

He took his time, and was reluctant to get out even after his fingers started to prune. The last complete bath he’d taken had been nearly a year ago, several months before the siege in Forelia. In the meantime he’d only been able to take showers, when he’d been able to bathe at all. A real bath was rare in his line of work.

A loud yawn escaped from him as he dried himself off. The hot water hadn’t done much to counteract his exhaustion. When he was dry, he got dressed again and left the bathroom. Surelin was preparing to get into the bed; the covers were already thrown back.

“Oh hell no!” He shouted. “You are not sleeping in my bed! Don’t you dare get in there! Get-”

“What?! No! Where am I supposed to sleep, then?”

He pointed at her. “You can sleep on the damn floor as far as I care, now back up!”

Gideon's mouth gaped with shock as he watched her dive into the bed and throw the covers over herself.

Her fingers gripped the blankets tightly. “How can you be like that?! A man should be noble and make sacrifices for a lady, necessary sacrifices!”

“This is my fucking room! I paid for that piece of shit bed, and I’m going to use it! I earned it! Now get the fuck up!”

“No I won’t!” She was determined. “Don’t you have any shame?! You’re going to make me sleep on the floor even after you made me carry your money?”

It shut him up. He stared at her as he tried to think up a new avenue of attack, and Surelin stared back defiantly.

“I haven’t slept in a real bed in nine months,” he said. “During that entire time I’ve either slept on a shitty cot or literally on the fucking ground. And just in case you forgot, I risked my life for the money that paid for that bed. I’m going to sleep in it.”

She was totally unmoved.

He made a frustrated growl, then narrowed his eyes at her.

“I’m sleeping in that bed even if you’re in it.”

Her mouth gaped in horror. She looked down at the covers with deep frustration before she violently flung them off and jumped out of the bed.

“Fine! Take the stupid bed then, you churlish bed-hog! You nasty, vulgar bully! You’re an awful person!”

She stomped over to the couch and dropped onto it. Gideon watched as she crossed her arms and craned her head away from him.

His face scrunched up from mental pain. Fuck. I have to let her have the bed.

“...Alright, nevermind. You can have it.”

She still looked angry as she turned her head back to him.

He waved dismissively at her. “I’ll just… sleep on the couch. Fucking…”

A defeated sigh left him as he walked over to the bed. “I’m taking a blanket. And some pillows.”

She watched him as he gathered up the bedding and dumped it on the floor by the couch.

“Thank you.”

He clicked his tongue as he moved his money and rucksack off the couch. Surelin stood up and walked back to the bed.

Gideon watched with chagrin as she got in it, then walked between the wall mounted lamps and blew them out. Darkness filled the room, illuminated only by faint moonlight streaming through the blinds.

“Get some sleep. We have to wake up at the crack of dawn if we want to find a caravan before they all leave.”

He heard the covers rustling. “You don’t know which one we’re going to take?”

“Nope. No idea, but we’ve got enough money to buy seats on any caravan.”

“...I see.”

Gideon walked back to the couch and laid down, pulling the blanket over himself. The couch was not nearly as uncomfortable as he expected it to be: it was, after all, a fancy couch in a high-class inn. Still, it wasn’t long enough for him to stretch his legs out. He laid on his side, with his knees bent.

The darkness of the room seemed to draw him in. His eyes traveled along the mural on the ceiling, illuminated faintly by the moonlight. Now that he was laying down, he noticed how quiet it was. It was normal when staying at an inn to hear activity in the nearby rooms; people walking around, or talking late into the night. The absence of that ambience was troubling, somehow.

He was definitely tired enough for sleep, but it didn’t come. The day’s events were bouncing around in his head, refusing to relax.

“Gideon? Are you still awake?”

A frown appeared on his face. He debated with himself for a few seconds about whether to reply. “Yeah.”

Nervousness tinged her voice when she spoke again.

“Why are you helping me?”

He blinked. It was a reasonable question, but he didn’t know how to explain it in a way that would fully assuage her.

“I’ve got my own reasons for it.”

Her silence said it all.

“You don’t have to worry. You’re not obligated to me. I’m not expecting anything from you.”

“...I need to know. Please, explain it to me.”

He shook his head. I barely understand it myself.

“Look, you’ve had a very rough couple of months. I just… thought you could use some help.”

More silence.

“It’s not that much trouble for me. Honestly.”

He heard quiet sniffling. It went on for a few minutes. Eventually, she spoke up again.

“Why did you fight that man in the arena? Everyone else ran away.”

He rolled his eyes. Enough with the hard questions, already.

“I didn’t want to run away like them, is all.”

He could practically hear her absorbing his statement.

“Weren’t you scared?”

The memory of the Easterner flashed across his mind. The way he turned to Gideon when everyone began to flee. The fear that clutched at his heart when they locked eyes.

“Yes. I was scared.”

The covers rustled for a moment, then stopped. He waited, but her voice didn’t come out of the darkness again.

Gideon finally drifted off to sleep.