All We Can Do Is Keep Breathing



A flash of lightning across a sky the color of blood. An echo of a woman crying-- no-- singing? Both? Or maybe there was two women...

She was afraid! But why? Everything and nothing made any sense at all. 

Finchley tossed and turned in her agitated sleep, the blankets of the bed in a room at the Prancing Pony getting tangled about her legs. This went on for some minutes until finally she sat upright with a strangled scream. She slapped a hand over her mouth as her breaths came in harsh pants. Looking about the room, she noticed she was alone and the other bed empty. Lif must have not returned yet. The details of her nightmare faded away so rapidly that by the time she came to her senses she couldn't even remember anything of it, save that she was so very afraid.

Air. She needed air!

The woman scrambled out of bed, unmindful of how the blankets fell onto the floor in a messy heap and rushed toward the window. She opened the latch and pushed the pane open, sticking her head out into the cool night air. She breathed in the scent of fallen leaves and smoke rising from Bree-town's chimneys.

"I'm in Bree... I'm in Bree and I'm okay," she whispered to herself, over and over again like a mantra, as she slumped downwards. Her chin now rested upon the sill so she could still breathe in fresh air, though her hands still clung to the latch and the sill with a vice like grip. 

"It's gonna be okay," she continued to whisper to herself as her eyes closed. "It's gonna be okay. I can do this. I got to see Maurr. I'll get to see Doc and Bild again. And Mister Byrge. Mister Tumunir. Miss Taite and her Mister Tairy... I can be happy about that too. It'll be okay."

Over and over she whispered what comforts she could keep to herself as a cool breeze blew into the room, grounding her in the present. Eventually, her heart stopped beating so fiercely in her chest and she could breathe easier despite her ever present fear. 

"Flowers for Grams. Yellow ones... And pink and blue. Never red; she didn't like red. White..."

More time passed and her exhaustion from the long journey washed over her again. Sleep claimed her as she still half-stood-half-sat slumped by the window, clinging to sill for, seemingly, dear life. Her features were slightly pinched though no more nightmares assaulted her mind. The only sound that filled the room was her easy breathing and the cool night wind blowing.