h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

A quiet day in the guild hall, trying to expand a bit on some of the characters. But tomorrow...

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Omens of Oblivion: Bedridden

Freya slept unusually late and, as she woke up, the light hurt her eyes. Closing them, she got such an urgent sense of déjà vu that she quickly opened them again, scanning her surroundings. No, she wasn't back in the prison cell. This was the Fighters Guild hall in Chorrol. She had had such strange dreams, filled with strange creatures, demons and Daedra, the likes of which she had never seen before. They had left a heavy feeling of pending doom, which Freya attempted to shake off.

It was eerily quiet, but she supposed everyone was already up and about. As she tried to sit up, she happened to lean on her injured arm. A sharp, throbbing pain shot through it, and a muffled moan slipped over her lips. Leaning back, she heard footsteps quickly approaching.

It was the guild porter. Freya had noticed the evening before how absolutely nothing seemed to pass him by, he heard and saw everything. He now slipped off his gauntlet and felt her forehead. His hand felt smooth and cool.

'You are burning hot - are you ill?'

She told him what the healer had said the day before, and he nodded understandingly, and then left. When the porter returned, he brought a pitcher of fresh, cold water and a plate with an apple and a bunch of grapes. He set them down on the window sill next to her bed and got a mug and two books from the nearest book shelf. Filling the mug with water from the pitcher, he handed it to Freya, saying:

'Make sure to stay in bed and to drink plenty of water, I'll keep the pitcher filled. Kurz makes the meanest chicken soup, I'll ask him to make you some for lunch, it'll do you good. Here are some books to help you pass the time.'

'Thank you... I don't even know your name?'

'Andreas, at your service ma'm,' he replied, bowing curtly before returning to, no doubt, keeping an eye on things.

Freya emptied the mug in one long gulp, grabbed the apple and picked up one of the books. As she saw the title, she wondered if Andreas had even bothered checking which books he picked because, as far as she could recall, 'Hallgerd's Tale'* was a bit cheeky. Oh well, she was sure she would enjoy re-reading it. She bit into the apple and turned the first page.

She had barely finished reading the first book when she heard noise from downstairs; doors opening and closing, booted feet trampling around. Freya saw Andreas hurry down the stairs and the murmurs of a conversation, followed by a booming voice saying:

'Yes, of course I will, I'll be happy to!'

Andreas came back up the stairs, carrying another pitcher of water, replacing the one on the window sill. Looking down into the one he had just picked up, he sternly pointed out to Freya that she must remember to keep drinking. He filled the mug and handed it to her, watching her down it, then carried the now half empty pitcher downstairs.

Feeling guilty, Freya picked up the last of the grapes and popped them into her mouth when the most wondrous aroma wafted upstairs, making her mouth water. She was trying to arrange the pillows so that she could sit propped up against them, when one of the Orc warriors came trudging up the stairs with a big bowl in his hands, heading towards her bed.

'Here. Porter said you might want some.'

Handing Freya the bowl, the Orc took a step back and crossed his arms with a reserved look at his face. Freya sniffed at the soup, yes, this was what she had sensed. Not having noticed until now how hungry she was, Freya grabbed the spoon and started ladling in. The soup was rich and creamy, yet spicey, and she did not put the spoon down until the bowl was empty. Well, almost emtpy. Mischievously, Freya looked up at the Orc and said:

'Is it alright with you if I lick the bowl clean?'

'That good, eh? But of course!' he said with a wide grin.

Wiping her mouth, Freya praised the soup and expressed her heartfelt thanks to the Orc, who seemed to become almost embarrassed but also extremely pleased at her words. She learnt that this was Kurz, maker of chicken soup extraordinarie whom Andreas had mentioned earlier. They discussed the use of herbs and spices in the art of cooking for a while, after which Kurz returned downstairs, taking the bowl and spoon with him.

Stomache pleasantly full, Freya leaned back, resting her head on the pillows, and promptly fell asleep.

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*Hallgerd's Tale:
http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Oblivion:Hallgerd%27s_Tale

Chicken soup. I wish I had chicken soup. Not so sure I need an Orc, though.

So you don't want me to send Kurz over to make you some soup then?

How soon can he get here?

Have you got Oblivion installed? If so, very soon.

If not *consults timetables* 24 hours, give or take an hour or two.

Oh dear. It'll be 24 hours, then.

(G'night...)

[-B4-]