Rajana groaned softly. She hadn't even opened her eyes yet and already her head hurt. Perhaps more sleep would help. It was probably the middle of the night anyway, there wasn't enough light upon her closed eyelids for it to be morning yet. She rolled over, and promptly fell three feet onto a cold, stone floor.
A small frown settled upon her features. That wasn't right. Had she gone to sleep on a ledge? And why did the very act of frowning hurt her face? That wasn't normal for a hangover insofar as she could remember.
If felt nice though, her cheek pressed to the cool, slightly damp ground. She was almost reluctant to turn onto her back and crack one eye open to view her surroundings. Wooden ceiling, plaster and stone walls. So, not her tent then. Someone's house? Had she gone home with a Bree-lander last night?
A clink of metal echoing in the distance made her look toward the fourth wall. Ah! Not a wall. Bars. She was in jail! Mystery solved, she closed her eye again in the hopes of sleeping off the headache.
Wait, why am I in jail?
The thought elicited another frown, which in turn caused her face to hurt further. Bringing up one hand, she slowly and gingerly touched her fingertips to her skin, wincing for her troubles. The cheek and jaw were swollen on the left hand side, the eye puffy. She tried to open it to no avail. Lower lip too. Further exploration revealed several cuts, including a split lip. Bruises on her hands, scabs on her knuckles. Hmm.
"You alright there, miss?"
The voice, pleasant and deep, brought a new stab of pain to her brain. She winced, turning her gaze up over to the guardsman standing on the other side of the barrier.
"Mm, yes, fine," she managed. "Could I have some water, please?"
The guardsman nodded and moved away, presumably to continue with his rounds before fulfilling her polite request. It always paid to be polite to jailors. A little light flirting usually did some good too, but she had no mind for it right now. Besides, if she looked anything like she felt, chances were he'd run away screaming rather than do as she asked.
Stifling another groan, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and shuffled over to lean her back to the wall. She needed to think. What had brought her here? Why did she feel like she'd been trampled by a mumak? And why, for goodness sake, why had she drank so much after almost a year of refusing to take even a sip?
"Here ya go."
Looking over to the guardsman, she offered a small smile of gratitude for the drink which he... put on the floor and then carefully prodded her way with a long stick? That wasn't normal.
"Thank you kindly," she said, watching him studiously with her one currently open eye. He seemed... wary for some reason. Awkward. Probably just new to the job and unused to its position of yet. "Ah, if you wouldn't mind, could you tell me why I'm here?"
"Ya don't know?"
"I'm afraid not," she replied with a soft sigh as she retrieved the cup of water.
The man shifted his feet uncomfortably, casting a glance over his shoulder toward the guards break room and processing area. Rajana continued to watch him, now over the rim of the small leather cup. The water was a little brackish, but better than nothing, and it helped a little to soothe an ache in her throat that she hadn't noticed before.
"Log book says ya were fighting," the man eventually stated, turning his attention back to her. Or almost back to her anyway. He kept his gaze just slightly to her left. "Ye and this big man. When the guards on duty arrived, they had to pull him off ya. Ya weren't getting the better, if ya know what I mean."
"I see," she murmured. She didn't, of course. She wasn't one for unnecessary violence. "If I was losing then, why am I in here? Where is the man I was fighting?"
"Well, 'cording to Clem, when they was pulling him off ya," the man twisted his lips in distaste, casting a short-lived look to her. "And trying to get ya up off the floor, ya started hissing and cursing in that foreign lingo of yers, trying to get back at him. They had to knock ya out to make ya stop. Curses, they said. Seemed reasonable to lock you up, right? And let him go for a lie down so's to make sure he weren't affected none by yer hex."
Rajana didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Curses? Hexes? How utterly ridiculous! She had no power for such things! She knew the theory behind it, sure, but had never so much as thought about putting it to the test. And to let the man go back to the comfort of his house whilst she was arrested? Ah... but of course, she was in Bree after all. She'd been jailed for less in the past.
"Is Curnden around?" She asked after a few moments, keeping to that same polite tone. She remembered Curnden. A good man, and far more sensible than the others in her experience.
"His day off."
Biting back another sigh, she nodded a little. Not too much lest her head fall off. It already felt like it was going to do just that. She needed air, and space. A good scrub in a river and hot meal wouldn't go amiss either!
"I see," she mumbled before taking another small sip of the water. "When shall I be released, do you know?"
"Well," the man drawled thoughtfully, rocking back and forth on his feet. "Clem's going to go check on that man in a bit, right? If it's seen that he's alright, and his wife says he hasn't had any funny turns or nothing, we'll let ya go. Until then, miss, yer staying right where you are."
"Very well." She didn't bother to argue. What would be the point?
As the guardsman turned to leave, she reached into her coat for a feel around, wincing as her hand brushed against several bruises across her chest.. They'd taken her few concealed small daggers, it seemed, but had at least left her with her journal and spare charcoal. She had nothing better to do for the next few hours, nothing to distract her. Time, then, to try figuring out what she could of recent events.
